Dead Space: The Jerusalem Chronicle
by RevanSentinel
Summary: A selection of personal logs and stories from the crew of the USM Jerusalem detailing the horrors they encounter during a fateful mission to investigate a Marker Site.
1. Chapter 1

**This is my second Dead Space fanfic, originally meant to act as an accompanyment to another story I was writing, but will instead be a combination of both. It will not just be conversations/logs, but also some actual stories as well. This first conversation takes place during the USM Jerusalem's departure from the wreckage of Titan Station on a top secret mission for Earthgov. Its destination is Perseus Station, orbiting the planet Kreemar in the Proxima Centauri System, where Marker 1A is located.**

* * *

**[0300 hours…April 9****th****, 2512…]**

**[Please enter your full United Space Military Identification Tag and Service Number…]**

[Private Owen Michael Haines, Service Number V-4 432 54 1923]

**[For security reasons, please enter the current vessel you are serving aboard, its class, and the registration number of that vessel.]**

[USM Jerusalem. Noble-class cruiser. Registration tag CC-9342]

**[Establishing communications link with…]**

[Lucia Ramirez: Roosevelt Gardens, Olympus, Luna]

**[Please hold…]**

**[Connection with array secured…]**

**[Establishing local satellite connection…]**

**[Earth Government wishes to remind you that discussion of any and all classified information above your clearance level of…BETA-1…is illegal per Military Regulations 19-J, and can result in a fine of $6,000 and seven years of imprisonment.]**

**[Connection established. Live feed initiating…]**

**[Audio feed initiating…]**

[OH: Can you hear me? Good. Hey, how are things?]

[LR: Good…you look tired.]

[OH: Yeah, it's been tough. Acker's been making us do training in full gear.]

[LR: I thought that was a punishment?]

[OH: It was, until some intelligence spook arrived and had a private talk with the command staff. Since then, they're making all the squads do training in full gear. Those new Aegis suits can tire you out after three mile runs. Those things are like tanks! They're huge! I almost feel like a Spartan.]

[LR: What?]

[OH: Halo. Master Chief Petty Officer Spartan 117.]

[LR: Oh, that old video game? My grandfather had Halo IX.]

[OH: Hey, don't disrespect the classics! Of course, the science in that game is crap.]

[LR: Never played it. So they got you using that now? What about your Security Suit?]

[OH: Still got that. Couldn't let that baby go…speaking of babies, how was the ultrasound?]

[LR: It was amazing. I saw her. She was so beautiful.]

[OH: Hey…when I get back…we got to start thinking about baby names.]

[LR: When you get back?]

[OH: I…put in for a transfer. Back to United Command.]

[LR: But I thought you hated desk jobs.]

[OH: Yeah, but it won't be a desk job, at least not completely. Jenkins got a promotion to Chief Warrant Officer Rank 3, so his desk's free. I'll still be helping to keep my squad alive, but I'll be coming home every night.]

[LR: I…I'd love that. How long?]

[OH: Depends. The requests take between two to three days to reach our battalion supervisor, but with all the other work and requests the office gets; it'll be at least three weeks until he sees it. Once he actually gets it, it'll take maybe two hours for him and a few other senior officers to make the decision. Of course, we could always be on a mission so I might not get it right away. So, maybe…a month?]

[LR: It's better than the six more months you were going to be stuck out there. Those intelligence gathering jobs have long hours. What if you're in the middle of a planning session and I go into labor?]

[OH: Deidre Hoffman is CSO of the 409th Intelligence and Sustainment Command.]

[LR: And? I don't know these people, Owen.]

[OH: Sorry. What I meant was, she's a mother of two kids. I think she'll let me take a few weeks of leave to be with my girls. And there's plenty of other analysts. They'll take over if I have to run and catch the shuttle.]

[LR: Good…Uncle Daniel's been asking when you're coming back. He's been raving about how 'spring weddings' are all the rage.]

[OH: Whatever you want, I'll be fine with it. Just make sure that whenever he schedules it, to make sure to include Operation Sobriety. The last thing I want is for Marisa to do another re-enactment of Eve prior to eating the apple.]

[LR: I think my brothers can handle that.]

[OH: No! Get Jason and Amara to do it. A few months ago, when we had that family weekend on Ganymede Station? She managed to hide a flask in her bra. Every time she went to the bathroom, she took a swig. It was only when she got so tipsy that she forgot to close it did we notice it. Jason and Amara are the only ones who can-…make sure she…_da-da-da-da_-damn. We must…_grrrrrrrrre_-getting out…*_static_*…range of the relay.]

[LR: Tell your squad I send my…and a box of cookies…careful at…Perseus Station!]

[OH: Listen, I'll call…*_static_*…soon as we…don't wor-…*_static_*…love you.]

[LR: I love you too.]

**[Out of relay transmission range.]**

**[USM Jerusalem initiating Shockpoint Drive.]**

**[Please be aware that communications will not be available while in Shockspace.]**

[OH: Yeah…I'm aware.]

**[Private Owen Michael Haines, Service Number V-4 432 54 1923 has signed off. Ending video chat…]**

**[Terminal closed.]**

* * *

**Chapter 2 coming soon. Don't worry. Usually if the Necromorphs haven't shown up yet, then that means they will soon...**


	2. Chapter 2

**Here is chapter 2.**

* * *

**[USM _Bellerophon. _Registration Tag CA-3452]**

**[CAPTAIN'S PERSONAL LOG: ROMANOFF, ALISTAIR]**

**[TYPE: TEXT]**

[We arrived in the Proxima Centauri system five days ago. Routine patrol. Boring stuff. I even sent most of my crew to the station for some well-deserved R & R. Since then, Dr. Boland and his medical staff have been swamped with cases ranging from headaches to complete mental breakdowns. I know what's causing it. It's the fucking REDACTED . Damn spooks in the higher up are playing with fire. When Aegis VII went kaput, they should have seen the warning signs. Titan Station should have been the alarm bells. Hell, there was a fucking sign right in front of them that said 'DO NOT CONTINUE OR YOU WILL REGRET IT IN VARIOUS PAINFUL AND UNIMAGINABLE WAYS. LOOK AT THE EVIDENCE'. Anyway, I've ordered the affected crewmen quarantined and placed under close observation. I've recalled all personnel from the station just to be safe.]

* * *

_USM Bellerophon_

April 8th, 2512

14 hours after communications blackout following Marker activation

[Personal Log, 0700 hours…Shit…I'm bleeding out here. This is…argh! This is Staff Sergeant John Whitaker, commanding officer of Evac Squad, part of the 213th Tactical Brigade, subsection of the 409th Intelligence and Sustainment Command, out of the USM_ Bellerophon_, blah-blah-blah-blah, that's not important. I'm out of grenades and down to my last two med packs. I've got maybe thirty more rounds in this rifle and enough Plasma gas for two shots from the cutter. But okay, listen up: This is very important. Don't go for the body. It's the limbs. Dismemberment is the key. Kenneth and Donnelly wasted two full clips each trying to take them down with body shots. Don't go for the head either; they go berserk when you do that. I…shit, that's a lot of blood…what was that?]

Whitaker glanced around him, one hand holding his guts in, the other grasping the bloody Pulse Rifle. The noise came again, that of feet against metal. A few corridors away, someone screamed. Female. Johanna? Amy? Renata? Once he was sure that whatever killed them wasn't coming after him, he turned back to his log.

[Most of my squad is dead. They trapped us in the Mess Hall. A few others made it out. I think that was one of them getting ripped apart. I got slashed a couple of corridors back. Hang on…]

Whitaker stumbled into a storage room and sat down in relief; no large vents here, just ones that only a mouse could fit through. Wincing, he took his last two med packs out and stabbed a vein with the syringes within, before placing a patch of synth-flesh over his wound and wrapping his chest with medical tape. Once that was secure, he glanced out into the corridor and continued limping forward.

[Listen, it's important that you understand this. I'm going to try and make a run for the fighter bay. Maybe there's someone still alive there. Hopefully a pilot. But listen: if you come across these things, run for your lives. Don't be a hero, just run. They are vicious and extremely fast. As far as I can tell, as long as there's a vent near you, then you're in danger. They're using the vents to get around and ambush us. That's how Alpha and Delta got taken out. If you have a cutter or a Kinesis module, then by all means, use them, but don't be a hero. Take out those that you can and then run like hell. That's what I'm doing. Better yet, if you find this log and still have a way off the ship, then by all means, do so. If you're E.D.F., then train your vessel's guns on this ship and destroy it. Blast the colony. If even…]

Whitaker paused as he entered the atrium of the hangar. The massive titanium doors separating it from the actual hangar had been ripped from their hinges. The burning remains of several fighters met his eyes. His heart sank. Then…wait…yes, it was! An operational gunship sat in the corner. It didn't have the emblem of the _USM_ _Bellerophon_, that of the hero riding Pegasus, but instead had a snake wrapped around a sword as its emblem. Whatever ship it came from, it was his salvation.

Panting and wincing in pain, Whitaker began shuffle-running across the deck. His haste to escape was so great that he didn't bother making sure the hangar was secure. He heard the scampering sound on the catwalk behind him too late.

ZZZ-SPLAT! The Lurker's trio of barbs sliced through his left knee before he could turn and fire. Whitaker cried out in pain and fell forward. As he did, another trio of barbs slammed into his back, puncturing the suit. The next one blasted the hand holding his rifle, sending the weapon sliding across the deck and out of his reach. Screaming in pain, Whitaker turned around and fired his last two shots in his Plasma Cutter at the Lurker. They severed its tentacles and blasted its face to pieces. The Lurker hit the deck, dead.

Whitaker turned, just in time to see a young man dragging a young woman, and an older man trailing them, enter the shuttle. He tried to cry out for them to wait for him, but his voice was drowned out by the roar of its engines. The shuttle lifted off the deck and blasted off. Whitaker groaned and propped himself up against a crate.

"…*sob*…gotta…get…these…" He succeeded in ripping out the barbs in his back. He tossed the useless Plasma Cutter aside.

[HOLY FUCKING MOTHER OF GODDAMN JESUS CHRIST THAT HURTS! Argh…this is Staff Sergeant John Whitaker. I'm in the hangar. Damn bastards ambushed me…took off my leg. I used my last med packs healing myself up earlier…I'm going to bleed out soon, so I hope you find this. Mela honey, I love you. Tell Jackson to be strong for his daddy…I love you both (voice breaking)…I'm sorry I can't come home…]

With a crash, one of the wall vents was smashed open, and a trio of Slashers popped out. More spilled out behind them and they began advancing on Whitaker. Several more entered from a vent on the upper catwalk. Whitaker groaned and returned to his log.

[Listen, if you find this and are still in one piece, especially if you haven't succeeded in killing one, then here are the basic rules for survival: Go for the limbs, stay away from the vents, and above all, keep moving. And whatever you do, don't get within melee range. That's how I got clipped earlier. The ranged ones can still take you out, but they all do much more damage at melee range…Jesus Christ…nononononononononono…oh god oh god…I just want to go home…EEEEAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGH!]

[_Sound of RIG flatlining, followed by shuffling of Slasher feet_.]

**[Log ends]**

* * *

USM_ Jerusalem_

En Route to Proxima Centauri System

"What do you mean it's not a milk run?" Owen snapped. Corporal Lena Amirsaleh just shrugged.

"Look at the facts. They load us up with 50 Havok high-yield nuclear warheads, and enough torpedoes and turret ammo to wipe out the population of any city. You think this is going to be another simple run and gun mission? No, whatever we're up against, it's scared the spooks above into arming us to the teeth."

"That explains the new suits." Private Ashley Chen chuckled. She walked out of the showers, butt-naked and towel flung over her shoulder. She was followed shortly by Lance Corporal John Allen and Corporal Lindsey Fields. They were also naked, except John at least had a towel covering him.

"Guys, put some clothes on." Owen asked. The others all laughed.

"What, since Owen got tied down, he hasn't had time to admire _these_?" Lindsey turned and bared her bosom at Owen. Owen groaned and buried his head in his locker.

"Come on, guys, lay off him." John grunted. A tattooed muscular giant, he reminded John of one of those body-builder models. Lindsey smirked and sidled up to Owen before bumping him with her bare hip. Owen tried not to take a swing at her.

"Not going to take advantage of the sex pun I could use right now." Lena grunted "John, Ashley; you guys come with me. And for the love of the Lord's saggy left ball, put some clothes on!"

* * *

The command deck was busier than usual. Crewmen dashed to and fro, and all the consoles were manned, which was a first. Captain White was hunched over the holoprojector along with the XO Raphael Hernandez and Commander Erika Benson, commanding officer of the 55th Intelligence Brigade.

"I want those guns prepped and ready the moment we reach the Proxima Centauri system." White ordered, chewing the unlit cigar in his mouth furiously. It was against regulations to smoke while on duty, so White made the best of his situation. Usually, when he was chewing it at that rate, it meant he was agitated.

"Corporal Lena Amirsaleh reporting for duty, sir!" Lena said, snapping to attention.

"Private Owen Haines reporting for duty!"

"Corporal Ashley Chen reporting for duty!"

"At ease, gentlemen." White grunted. "You're probably wondering why I called you up here."

"That's correct, sir!"

"Well, you're about to find out." White turned to the shipwide speaker and cleared his voice.

"This is the captain. As of 1700 hours two days ago, Earthgov Command lost contact with the USM_ Bellerophon_ while she was on a routine patrol in the Proxima Centauri System. A SOS signal was received by the Nova Prime colony at 0300 hours yesterday. It bore an E.D.F. Navy signature. They sent a scout shuttle to investigate, the USG_ O'Reilly_, and she has not been heard from since. Now the brass up in Command hasn't released this information to the public yet, but there's been a complete loss of communications with the colony in that system, Kreemar, and the orbital space station, Perseus Station. As of right now, they are attributing it to a temporary maintenance issue. The following information is to be considered top secret, and anyone who leaks it will be labeled a traitor and be executed, so I don't want anyone getting any funny ideas. The _O'Reilly_ _was_ heard from: she launched her own distress beacon along with the ship's log and black box recorder shortly after arriving at Kreemar. I'm going to play it…"

* * *

**[Recording begins. Time stamp 0600 hours.]**

_"…De-shocking in three…two…one…we have entered the Proxima Centauri System…"_

_"Mr. Farnsworth, anything on your end?"_

_ "Negative sir…wait, sensors are picking up something massive…there it is…"_

_ "Christ, that's big."_

_ "It's a strike cruiser, what do you expect?"_

_ "It looks like they had a collision with that supply barge. Its engines are toast. The barge must have skidded across the hull before being lodged between those nacelles. The comm array has been torn off…and look at the fuel leaking out of those tanks._

_ "Jenner, prep a boarding team. Once we dock, I want you to assist that ship's crew with repairs. Renning, contact Copernicus Station. We may need to bring in some tugs to drag that thing back to drydock."_

**[Recording ends. New recording begins at 0700 hours.]**

_ "Anyone find it odd that there's no one here to meet us?"_

_ "I'm picking up a couple dozen life signs. Maybe that's why."_

_ "That's impossible. Ships that big carry a crew of a few hundred or so. The damage from that collision didn't look so bad. There should be over a hundred survivors."_

_ "Well I'm reading twenty-seven—hang on. The number's rising. Eighty-eight. One-hundred-seven...what the hell?"_

_ "Jenner, what is going on?"_

_ "Sir, my team is picking up hundreds of new life signs. They're popping up all over the…what the fuck is that?!"_

_ [Sound of vent cover hitting the floor.]_

_ "Jesus…open fire, open fire!"_

_ [Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat.]_

_ "I can't take it down!"_

_ "What the hell...Captain, Capston and Weinberg are dead! No, don't waste any more ammunition. We need to retreat! Prep the shuttle, we got to go!"_

_ "Move it, people!"_

_ [Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat]_

_ "This is nuts, I-aarrrggghhhh!"_

_ "Where's Lewis? And Garland?"_

_ "Forget about them! We need to go!"_

_ [Ka-blam! Ka-blam! Rat-tat-tat-tat]_

_ "SHRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEKKK!"_

_ "What is that thing?!"_

_ "I can see the hangar!"_

_ "Captain, we're all aboard!"_

_ "Great! Bring the shuttle back in and get-…."_

**[Error type 101. Data feed is corrupted. Please contact your nearest TS Administrator-]**

* * *

"…and that's all we have so far, folks. From the ship's log, we can assume that something attacked the _Bellerophon_. So here's the deal: We're going to be entering orbit of Kreemar in two hours. By that time, I want all squads armored up and armed to the teeth. We're going in with the expectations of full combat. I want the Medical Deck prepped for extreme combat situation. This is no joke people, we're dealing with something that even I don't know how to respond to. Captain out."

White turned back to them. "Commander Benson, I want you to pick out three squads, but they don't have to be from already-existing squads. Choose your best people and have them armor up. They are to enter the USM _Bellerophon_ and find out what happened over there. Expect a hostile reaction."

"Whoever they are, they now have access to the ship's entire store of weapons and munitions." Ashley noted.

"Correct, Corporal. That is why I'm sending in AEGIS." White said.

"Sir, the AEGIS division hasn't been tested in combat. Are you sure they're ready for this?" Lena asked.

"Whoever took the _Bellerophon_ managed to wipe out a crew of 427, not including the 700 or so marines and couple hundred support personnel. That's a lot of firepower. You saw the tests. Private Kushler took two APMS to the chest in that suit and walked away just fine. It was designed for heavy-duty combat."

* * *

**[PERSONAL LOG]**

**[PVT HAINES, OWEN]**

**[TYPE: AUDIO]**

[Personnel log…Private Owen Haines. We're due to arrive in less than an hour. Guess who was chosen as part of Squad Three? Gah…luckily, I don't have to put on one of those AEGIS suits. I'm in my Security Suit. John, Talia, Jackson, and Roland are wearing them. Lindsey, Lena, Ashley, and I are the rest of Squad Three. We're entering the ship via airlock, and we're getting to the airlocks via shuttle. Captain won't risk a direct link between the _Bellerophon_ and _Jerusalem_. Haines, out.]

* * *

Please R & R!


	3. Chapter 3

**Here's the next chapter**

* * *

**[DATE: 4/9/2513. TIME: 1100]**

**[RIG: Brown, R. (Munitions Quartermaster)]**

**[SUBJECT: Requested munitions.]**

The aptly named VANGUARD PLATOON is being prepped for insertion. We're on route to Kreemar. I've compiled a list as Lieutenant Arnolds has requested of required supplies from the armory and shuttle bay. These are to be ready by 1130.

3 _Geneva_-class armored shuttles

12 AEGIS Suits (Combat-4 preparations, please)

36 Energy cells (for arm cannons)

12 Security Suits (Request ones already assigned to each member of VANGUARD PLATOON)

24 Pulse Rifles

14,400 Pulse Rounds

288 Grenades

3 Seeker Rifles

150 Seeker Shells

6 Munitions Backpacks

6 H&T Keplar-12 Shotguns

240 .50 Rounds

3 PFM-100 Hydrazine Torches

9 Canisters of Hydrazine Fuel

24 5D Ration packs/Bed Rolls

**[LOG ENDS]**

* * *

April 9th, 2512

1200 Hours

"De-shocking in seven…six…five…"

"All hands brace for de-shock."

"…two…one…we have entered the Proxima Centauri system."

Captain White gripped the guard rail as the USM _Jerusalem_ de-shocked into orbit around Kreemar. They were greeted by the orange-grey rock that was Kreemar. A ring of large asteroids circled the planet.

The ring wasn't a natural occurrence; Kreemar had been one of the first unsuccessful attempts of Planet Cracking. Untested technology and inexperienced crews led to the Kreemar Cataclysm. On the far side of the planet, it looked like someone had taken a pickaxe and hacked away at the surface. This came from the disastrous attempt to pull the section of the planet up into orbit. The gravity tethers failed. Instead of pulling one large section of rock, the USG _Athena_ ripped apart the surface, flinging thousands of tons of rock into orbit. Three support vessels were destroyed by the wave of debris. The engines of the _Athena_ were damaged, immobilizing it.

The section that the _Athena_ did manage to secure was heavy enough that the crippled Planet Cracker was pulled down onto the mining colony of Wanat, destroying both. Over 9,000 CEC personnel were lost in the catastrophe. The disaster had created vast areas of seismic activity on Kreemar, meaning that another planet crack would result in the planet itself breaking apart. There was enough ore flung into orbit to warrant continued CEC operations in the area. Perseus Station was built to mine the asteroids and to serve as a research base and supply depot, but it had evolved to become the area's informal command center and had quite the number of civilians living onboard. A new colony was established below Perseus Station, connected via space elevator, to observe the seismic activity on Kreemar.

"All systems are in the green."

"Shields at 100% capacity."

"All weapon stations loaded and ready to fire."

"Corporal, keep us steady. Get me a visual of the _Bellerophon_."

"Hang on…there we go." An asteroid floated past them, revealing the warship. The bow section was a long rectangular block slightly tapered at one end; the center of that end was hollow, and the two main cannons of the vessel could be seen jutting out. On top of the block was a slight raised area; that was the bridge. A slightly-larger block made up the stern. Two levels of three engine nacelles, a total of six, lined the back of that block. Below it was the docking fin. On either side of the vessel were two brick-shaped modules: these were the main hangars.

"Vanguard Platoon is launched and heading towards the _Bellerophon_."

White turned to Hernandez, who was watching the afterburn of the three shuttles before glancing back at the warship.

"There's the barge that the _O'Reilly'_s crew mentioned." Hernandez muttered. White nodded. The boxy-shaped supply vessel was lodged between the two port nacelles. Just ahead of the collision site, the hull had been torn open in several places.

"Mr. Weiss, can you give me a 200 percent magnification on the communications array?" White asked. The Chief Sensor Officer nodded and turned to one of his subordinates, who was already carrying out the command. A screen popped up next to White and Hernandez.

"There's no way that the barge was responsible for that." Weiss said, walking over "See where it hit the hull? It hit the side of the vessel and came nowhere near the comm array."

"Perhaps debris from the impact hit the comm array?" Hernandez suggested. Weiss shook his head.

"From the damage to the aft port hull, I'd agree with the captain of the _O'Reilly_ and say that the barge skidded across the side of the hull. As for the comm array…I'd say the array was ripped off the hull. Probably an asteroid. There seems to be something covering the secondary array. Looks like frozen sewage from that barge." Weiss said, squinting at the image.

"Have Squad Two make their way up there once they dock and burn it off." White said "I want the secondary array cleared so we can communicate with the squad and any survivors."

Owen fought the feeling of vertigo as he stood, magnetized to the side of the hull. Tech Specialist Jackson Lewis was attempting to hack open the airlock hatch. They had been dispatched to the aft hull. The sound of Staff Sergeant Beverly Acker's voice filled his helmet. "_Airlock has been breached. We are entering the vessel_."

"Copy Squad One." Sergeant Talia Riley said. In her AEGIS suit, she reminded Owen of a two-ton six-foot-tall gorilla. John and Roland Matthews, as the munitions experts, had backpacks strapped to their RIGs full of grenades and other devices. The shotguns they carried could pack quite the punch.

"Outer hatch opened." Jackson said. The door swung outward, a puff of oxygen coming after it "Pressure is still good." One by one, they made their way inside.

"Closing outer hatch." Jackson said.

Owen took in their surroundings. They were in a long corridor, its pristine white-panel walls dimly lit by the flickering emergency lights. But it was the stuff covering the walls that got the squad's attention. "What the hell…" Talia walked over to the wall and touched it.

"Smells like puke." John muttered. Ashley walked over and took a sample. As her knife pierced the surface, a plume of green gas shot out. Ashley recoiled, but her specialized suit's sensors didn't pick up anything lethal, so she activated her RIG and began a log.

* * *

**[Science Log]**

**[Chen, Ashley (CPL, Science Division)]**

**[Vocals identified: Chen, Ashley/Kaufman, Roland/Nichols, Jackson]**

[Chen: Science Log, Corporal Ashley Chen. We've just entered the vessel. No sign of survivors. There's…_something_ covering the walls.

Kaufman: Jesus, is that stuff alive?

Chen: I think so. Okay, the substance appears organic in nature. It's sticky and soft to the touch. There's a rather foul odor surrounding it, probably due to the gas it emits. It's all over the place-walls, floor, ceiling. I just took a sample. It reacted when I cut into it. I'll need to run some more tests back onboard the ship, but I'm pretty sure this stuff is meant to act as a habitat transformer.

Nichols: Okay, take a few more samples and then I'll load the tubes into my RIG. Better take some thermals too. Dr. Lance will want the whole nine yards with this stuff. This stuff is going to be difficult to walk through.

Chen: The smell reminds me of vomit…like Jackson said, it's difficult to walk on. The substance clings to my boots. Okay, I think that's enough for now. Chen out.]

**[Log ends.]**

* * *

Owen made his way across a patch of the stuff before giving up. His boots clung to the patch and it took too much effort to move. "Ash, you got enough of this stuff?"

"Yeah."

"Good." Owen let loose with his flamethrower, dousing the flesh-like gunk with hydrazine. Slowly, he began to burn a path through the organic muck. Suddenly, he came to a halt.

"Noise. Supply closet." Sure enough, there was a faint scuffling noise from behind a door nearly overcome by the substance. Using their combat knives, Talia and Jackson carved a hole and removed the substance blocking the opening mechanism.

With Lena and Lindsey on either side of the door, Ashley and Owen moved in, rifles raised and the safeties off.

"Owen…" Ashley's voice whispered. Owen turned. Ashley was kneeling next to a huddled figure in the corner. As Owen joined them, he realized it was a teenage girl. She was shaking and sobbing. Beside her were two adults in crewman's jumpsuits. Blood trickled from their mouths, and both had received what looked to be stab wounds.

"Boss, we got two bodies and a survivor." The squad moved into the room, with Jackon and Roland guarding the entrance.

"What's your name?" She asked gently. The girl paused and glanced fearfully at her. She didn't speak. Her eyes flitted between the members of Squad 3 with growing terror.

"Sarge, I think seeing a bunch of armed soldiers is starting to freak her out." Lindsey whispered. As squad liaison, she was responsible for dealing with any shell-shocked crewmen that they might encounter or nervous marines. Talia nodded and shepherded the rest of the squad out, leaving Lindsey, Owen and Ashley with the girl.

"My name's Lindsey." Lindsey said gently "This is Owen and that over there is Ashley." Owen smiled at the girl. She was fingering the braid her filth-caked blonde hair was in. Ashley took in the intricate braid that it was in.

"Do you do your own hair?" The girl nodded "I could never get this in any working order to be able to do anything." Ashley gestured at her unruly mass of brown curls. The girl managed a faint smile.

"What's your name?" Owen asked. The girl hesitated.

"I promise, we're not going to hurt you. We're here to help." Lindsey reassured her. The girl gulped.

"_Rebecca_."

"Rebecca what?"

"Rebecca Bell-Marcus." Ashley turned a little and began scanning her RIG database to find Rebecca on the crew roster.

"Rebecca Bell-Marcus…your mother is Lieutenant Sandra Bell, correct?" Rebecca nodded "Your father is Sergeant Adam Marcus?" Rebecca nodded again. She jerked a finger at one of the bodies. Owen glanced at the ID tag on the suit. Sandra Bell. The other belonged to an Ensign whose ID tag had been ripped to pieces. Owen noticed an audio log lying next to Lieutenant Bell.

* * *

**[ENGINEERING REPORT: LT. BELL, S. (ENGINEERING SPECIALIST)]**

**[TYPE: AUDIO]**

[Bell: Engineering report, Lieutenant Sandra Bell. The attack came out of nowhere. We're adrift and without main power or communications. We were caught with our pants down, so to speak. The engine was shut down so we could focus on the problem of removing the waste carrier that careened into our hull. The barge lodged itself between the first and fourth engine nacelles, but it severed the fuel lines to the entire array. With that vessel still there, we can't get to the fuel lines and close the breach. A scout shuttle managed to locate the mining deck of the _Athena_ a few hundred kilometers from us. Its gravity tethers are still operational, pending extensive repairs. If we can somehow power them up, perhaps we can use them to move the barge out of the way. Still, we have to figure out some way to get rid of the organic compound that's been infesting the engine room. If it gets into the spoke, then it won't matter if we can repair the engine.]

* * *

"She doesn't specify what the attack was." Owen said "Wish she did."

"No…" The trio glanced at Rebecca. She was eyeing them cautiously. When she realized they were staring at her, she lowered her head back down between her legs.

"Check her RIG." Ashley suggested "It might have some info on what happened after the 'attack'."

Owen synced his RIG with the dead Lieutenant's. A screen appeared in front of him and data began speeding across it as he downloaded. "There's a lot of engineering records…I'll store those. Wait, this was recorded two days ago. I'm playing it."

* * *

**[STATUS REPORT: LT. BELL, S. (ENGINEERING SPECIALIST) TO BRIDGE/CDR WALLACE, J.]**

**[TYPE: VIDEO]**

Wallace: Engineering, status report. Chief Blake, respond, goddamnit!

background sound of gunfire and screaming.

_Engineer: What the hell is that?_

_Engineer 2: They're coming out of the walls!_

Wallace: Blake, report!

Bell: This is Lieutenant Sandra Bell, sir. The Chief's dead. I'm in charge now. Where's the Captain?

Wallace: Good question. _(To an offscreen officer)_ Find Captain Romanoff! _(To Bell) _Fifteen RIG signatures have just flatlined throughout the ship.

_Bridge officer: Sir, another thirty just dropped into the red!_

Wallace: Will someone tell me what is going on?

Bell: Sir we-Ensign, get those shelves in place-sorry, sir; they're everywhere. We can't hold them off!

_Engineer 2: Get those shelves over there! Get the-…ARGH!_

more gunfire. Bell grabs an arc welder and fires at something offscreen.

Wallace: I want a situation report.

Bell: We're under attack, that's the situation!

sound of bridge door opening

Romanoff: Will someone tell me what the hell is going on?!

Wallace: Sir, we're losing crew throughout the ship. So far seventy-six…make that eighty-four RIGs have flatlined.

Romanoff: Lieutenant Bell, I assume that the Chief is dead?

Bell: Affirmative. They grabbed the Chief and pulled him into the vents. He had his service weapon, sir, but at our rate of success, I have no hopes for his survival.

Wallace: Sir, what do we do?

Romanoff: Commander…pull all remaining marines back to the command module, and prepare to jettison. I'm initiating the self-destruct system. Prepare a-…

Wallace: Sir, are you mad?! There are hundreds of people still trapped down there! This is insane!

sounds of scuffle. Two bridge security officers run into view

Romanoff: Get your hands off me, Commander!

Wallace: Don't let him get back to the-!

link erupts in static. The last identifiable noises are gunshots

Bell: Wallace? Wallace come in, damnit! Alright…everyone, pull back! We're getting out of here. Rebecca, stay close. You hear me? Stay close!

_Rebecca: They won't die! They just won't die!_

Bell: Everyone, follow-Oh my god…"

sound of something roaring

**[Log ends]**

* * *

Owen took Rebecca's hands and placed them at her side. Gently, he lifted her head. "Rebecca, I need to know what did this to your mom. More people could die, and we need to know what happened. Can you tell me?"

Rebecca's eyes widened with terror as she recalled whatever had happened to her mother. Very slowly, she focused on Owen and then laughed a little. It wasn't a happy laugh, more of a 'we're all dead oh shit' laugh. "They came out of the walls…"

"Who, the Unitologists?" Lindsey asked. Rebecca shook her head.

"They shocked into the system a few hours after we left Perseus Station. The next thing we knew, there was a bright flash of light-I think someone said it was an EMP-and then everything went crazy." Rebecca shuddered, her eyes glazing over as she recalled the horrific events.

"The vessel lurched under our feet as systems overloaded. That's when the barge hit us. Every single vessel that was near the station got hit. The barge just slammed into us."

"So it was an accident?" Owen asked.

"The captain thought that at first. But Mom was too busy trying to fix the engine, and deal with that…stuff growing all over the ship. The Unitologists attacked us then. The crew was so busy trying to fight them off that most of the personnel working on the barge left. That's when a group of Unis broke their way out of the barge and sabotaged our engine and weapons systems. Allowed a bunch more to board the ship. They slaughtered everyone, and just left their bodies in the hallways. Bunch of them were killed right outside this door." Owen glanced at Lindsey and Ashley, who shared his concerned look.

"Rebecca, are you sure they were killed here? We didn't come across any bodies when we entered this ship except for those two." Rebecca glanced at them in stark terror. Then she jumped up. Before Owen could stop her, she grabbed his pistol and shoved him aside before tearing out the door.

Owen dashed after her, stopping only when she shoved John into him. Roland brought his rifle up to bear, but Talia shoved it back down. "Are you crazy? She's a civilian!" She hissed. Roland glanced at the figure racing away from them down the corridor before turning a corner and vanishing.

"A civilian who just assaulted an Earthgov officer." Owen grunted, nursing his head. Rebecca had shoved him into a shelf, and his skull had a large lump on the back of it.

"Whatever the reason, she was terrified." Lindsey commented "And not just of the Unitologists."

"I guess we can assume that there was something else other than the Unis." Owen said "I mean, they have that weird fetish with preserving the dead, but I don't see them taking people who aren't members of their church."

"Speaking of which…" Talia keyed open a link to the _Jerusalem_. "Captain, what's the Church's official statement on this?"

_"Officially? They say that it's a rogue faction. Something called 'the Circle'. Personally, I think that's a bunch of shit."_

"Well, Circle or not, we have a case of disappearing bodies." Talia said. She motioned for John to approach her. "Lance Corporal, I want you to take Private Haines and Corporal Chen to the Morgue. Maybe the ship's crew cleaned up and they're all just too scared to come out with the Unitologists around. There's got to be someone there. If not, take the lift up to the Medical Deck and check for survivors. The rest of you, follow me to the Engineering Deck."

"Right. Follow me guys." John ordered Ashley and Owen. The trio set off.

* * *

**[MEDICAL LOG]**

**[DR. PALLAS, S. SENIOR MEDICAL OFFICER]**

**[CONCERNING THE INTAKE OF BODIES]**

Medical log, Dr. Sandra Pallas, 2100 hours. Since we left Perseus Station, the Medical Deck's been getting patients with complaints of insomnia and headaches. That was the beginning. Then it was the crewmembers going insane. Just after that, the power went out. We still had our backups for medical purposes, and we needed them for the influx of casualties from that collision. At 1715 hours, the first death was reported. Engineer 3rd Class Rachel Farid was found dead in her quarters with a close-range gunshot wound to the forehead. Within fifteen minutes, seventeen more personnel were discovered with the same COD. At approximately 1800 hours, marines in full gear began rushing in with wounded comrades. They wouldn't give me a straight answer as to what happened. I tried getting through to Captain Romanoff, but he wouldn't say anything either. But every single patient we had in that span of time be they military or not, were all suffering from gunshot or stab wounds. At 2000 hours, the last marine came in, with severe lacerations to his abdomen. The marines accompanying him weren't in much better condition, and seemed scared out of their minds. They just dropped him at the door and ran off. We were unable to save him. I've sent his body, along with the other hundred or so down to the Morgue. God knows what happened. I'm just glad we have a morgue big enough to accommodate this many bodies. Sad but useful facts about serving on warships. But six more casualties by lacerations are coming in, all unconscious from the blood loss or DOA. Chief Medical Officer Boland had to step down after he began complaining of hearing noises in the walls and started drawing strange symbols. We're all happy that he realized what was happening and decided to remove himself from the trauma center. I have sedatives, and I will use them on him or anyone else that snaps in the middle of surgery. It's going to be a long night.

**[LOG ENDS]**

* * *

The elevator doors opened. Three flashlight beams lit up the darkness beyond the elevator. A hulking behemoth stepped out, Pulse Rifle raised and ready, motioning forward the two smaller figures behind him. The flashlights on their helmets clicked on. The lights flickered on briefly, the automated system sensing movement, but then they shut out.

"Power's fried all over the ship. We're lucky life support hasn't given out." Ashley muttered. On either side of them were medical labs, usually visible through the glass windows that ran the length of the corridor. Now however, they presented an eerie darkness that brought dread to all three.

"Quiet, back there," John whispered "Morgue's just down the hall. Owen, see if you can kickstart the lights. This blackout is giving me the creeps."

Owen removed a maintenance panel from the wall and began fidgeting with the wires inside. After a few tense seconds, there was a spark and the lights went on. If they hoped that bringing the lights on would ease their growing dread, they were horribly mistaken.

"What the…" John took a step back from the window he was looking into. It was splattered with blood. As they peered through the window, they saw the body of a scientist, ripped to pieces. Lab equipment lay scattered and smashed, and more bodies could be seen lying behind upturned tables and chairs.

"Same on this side." Ashley said, glancing across the hall. John opened a RIG link to Talia.

"Sarge, you're not going to believe this. We have bodies."

"_Great, LC. It's a morgue, correct?_"

"No, I mean, of course there's bodies in the morgue. We were on our way, and we found bodies in the science labs."

"Can you determine COD?"

"If I had to guess…I'd say something ripped them apart."


	4. Chapter 4

**Please R & R!**

* * *

"Morgue's right through here." Ashley whispered as they continued down the hallway. All three ignored the message scrawled in blood on the wall MAKE US WHOLE, and the severed arm lying underneath it.

"Chen, take point. Haines, cover. I'm rear guard." John ordered. Ashley nodded and punched the door pad. The Morgue Door hissed open, and Ashley and John moved inside. What they found was shocking, to say the least.

"What the…where are the bodies?"

The walls were slick with blood, and sheets had been thrown to the ground as if the ones they were covering had decided to get up and take a walk. But other than that, all of the metal beds for recent arrivals were conspicuously lacking corpses, and the wall storage units had their doors either ripped off or swinging back and forth. Ashley walked up to a pool of blood and what looked like bits of skin and bone "This is the morgue, correct? There are supposed to be bodies in the morgue, yes?" She was starting to get a bit hysterical.

"What is this? HorrorFest '12?" John shook his head in disbelief. Owen walked up to one of the still-closed freezer cabinets. There was a thumping from within. Owen motioned to the others and pointed at the cabinet. John nodded, and brought his arm-cannon up to bear while holding his Pulse Rifle in his other hand. Ashley had her rifle ready and armed.

"On three…one, two, three…" John swung the cabinet door open and pulled out the slab. He instantly recoiled. On the slab was…something. Blood trickled off the slab and dripped to the floor. The body itself was a nightmare. The lower jaw had split apart, forming two clicking mandibles. The eyes were bloodshot, and the skin was cracked around the forehead. Two long blade-like bone structures jutted out of the palms, and the forearms were basically just bone and a few shreds of flesh.

"What the…" The creature went berserk at the sight of Owen. It swung its blade at him and he was slammed against the wall before diving out of the way. The slab was only halfway out, and the creature began trying to crawl out of the cabinet, but its legs were still inside.

"Corporal, stay back!" John barked. He raised his right arm, the one with the oversized gauntlet, and began charging the weapon. Basically a militarized overpowered version of the mining Contact Beam, the weapon was good for one thing. Punching through stuff in a violent manner. The creature stood no chance, and was blasted to bits.

Owen stood up, wincing as he felt his side. While the armor took the brunt of the blow, the force of it had transferred to his body. A few were cracked, definitely, and his left shoulder hurt from hitting the metal wall.

"What the hell was that thing?" Ashley asked, her voice a whisper. John walked over and prodded the corpse with his Pulse Rifle.

"Whatever it is, it's dead now." He chuckled "Corporal, if you want samples, I suggest-" His voice was cut off as the ceiling vents were smashed open. A cascade of bodies began tumbling out, and once they hit the ground, they stood up and began advancing on the trio.

"Open fire!" The three let loose with their rifles. Dozens of rounds disappeared into the horde, but _they wouldn't die_. Smoking holes in their heads did little to stop them, and neither did shots to the torso.

John snarled and charged up his arm cannon. But for every creature he destroyed with it, two more took its place. The gun's slow rate of fire also didn't help as there were simply too many of them for the Lance Corporal to take on at once and he had depleted his first battery charge within minutes. Soon, the marines found themselves forced back towards the autopsy room. Ashley and Owen found themselves behind John as the big man tried to shield them from the creatures. He was quickly overwhelmed and had six of the slashing ones on him, trying to break open his suit. The heavy AEGIS Suit proved its worth. They couldn't get in, but on the other hand, he couldn't shake them loose. And though it was armored, the constant hacking away by the monsters was starting to strain the suit to its breaking point. Ashley and Owen watched in horror as one of them succeeded in puncturing his left gauntlet and skewering him through the forearm. John screamed in pain and tried in vain to shake them off. Then the morgue doors opened.

Something bright and silver was tossed into the room. Owen recognized the incendiary charge as it fell and dived back, taking Ashley with him.

There was a bang, and then twenty monsters were running around, either killed or blinded by the blast. "Come on!" shouted the women at the doorway. She was bleeding from a cut to her forehead and had what appeared to be a RC-DS Remote Controlled Disk Ripper in her hand. She fired a blade from it and sliced apart the arms of the creature about to bear down on Owen. The thing screeched and hit the floor, dead.

Owen paused, glancing at John, who was struggling under a mound of bodies. "GO!" The marine roared, crushing a creature between his arms "That's an order, Private!" Then a fresh wave of monsters swarmed over him and he was lost from view.

Ashley was frozen with fear, but Owen gripped her wrist and pulled her along with him through the temporary passage that the woman had created. He fired blinded over his shoulder. A head exploded, but instead of the thing dropping dead, it just began swinging its arms wildly, hitting others of its kind who moved out of its way. Owen couldn't afford to dwell on that fact. He was already close to reaching Ashley's stage of terror as it was. Once they reached the woman, she slammed her first on the door pad and sealed the morgue shut. For a second, they thought they were safe. Owen took a glance at the woman. She was in her mid-forties with dirty-blond hair caked with blood and filth. The same blood-soaked state went for her clothes as well. She wore a ripped doctor's coat; the only evidence that it had been a doctor's coat was her nameplate. The rest of the item of clothing was ripped to shreds. Underneath that, she had the standard medical RIG. As she rested against a wall for a second, Owen saw that she was missing her ring and pinky fingers on her left hand, and there was a deep slash wound in her left side.

A bladed arm managed to squeeze itself between the doors. Then the doors burst open and dozens of the creatures ran out. The woman moaned and grabbed her Ripper.

"Follow me!" She ordered. Ashley and Owen ran after her. The creatures roared as one and chased them. Owen tossed a grenade behind them, and winced as the explosion deafened his hearing.

They reached the end of the corridor. Owen opened the door and the three of them ran inside. He closed the door behind them, before he and Ashley shoved a cabinet in front of it. They were in the morgue lobby. The corpse of the receptionist lay at her desk. A dozen more corpses, those of Earthgov marines, littered the floor. There was a lift at the far end. The woman tried to open it, but the doors remained shut. "Shit…Vera, the lift's not working. We need an exit, stat! I've got Necromorphs rushing us." She said urgently into her RIG. An image popped up of a middle-aged Hispanic woman. She wore a soldier's RIG, minus the helmet.

_"Hang on, I'm hacking the lift controls. It'll take a minute…"_ The cabinet shook as the things on the other side began massing against it.

"We don't have a minute!" Owen snapped "Sooner or later, those…Necromorphs will get past that door!"

"That's not our only concern…" The woman whispered. She began glancing at the vents "They use the vents to get around." To prove her point, an overhead vent burst open and a different Necromorph leaped out. This one reminded Owen of a freakish mermaid, with a long tail and a sharp barbed claw at the end. Its mouth was filled with oversized fangs, and it had two powerful arms.

"Take, take, take!" Owen barked. He and Ashley opened fire with their Pulse Rifles. The creature hissed and recoiled, but otherwise didn't seem affected.

"Go for the arms!" The woman shrieked, as she fired a Ripper disk at a bladed one that had broken in through a wall vent. She severed its right arm and then its left, and the Necromorph fell dead to the ground. "Dismemberment's the only way to kill them!"

Owen growled. He switched his aim, instead going for the whip-like tail at the rear of the creature. As it sprang at him, he opened fire. The tail was blasted off and the creature fell to the ground. Owen stomped his armored foot down on its arm, dismembering it. The Necromorph went still.

"Slashers! Two more of them!" The woman screamed. Owen couldn't hide his hysterical laugh. Slashers? That was an apt name for them.

"Hey, mystery woman, how long till that lift arrives?" Owen called back. The soldier on the RIG link looked up.

_"I need a few more minutes!"_ Owen cursed under his breath and resumed fire. His Pulse Rifle clicked empty. There wasn't time to reload with the creatures coming straight for him. Screaming expletives, Owen grabbed his flamethrower and let loose a stream of flames, bathing the room in hydrazine gas.

The two Slashers screeched as Owen put out a nonstop stream of blue fire, incinerating them. Another five Slashers leaped into the room and ran at him, ignoring their burnt comrades. Owen bathed them in flames while Ashley took them apart with her Pulse Rifle. They could have held out like that indefinitely had her rifle not clicked empty at that moment. She popped out her clip before turning to Owen.

"Last one?" He asked. She nodded. "Same here. Use your sidearm!" Ashley brought out her divot pistol and began blasting away. The smaller weapon wasn't as accurate, and she ended up with a lot of body shots instead of the limb shots that she wanted.

_"Got it! Get moving!"_ Owen could have kissed the female soldier there and then if he could. They rushed into the lift and frantically closed the doors. The last thing they saw was a Slasher running for them. Then the doors closed and the lift began to ascend.

* * *

**[HIGH-SECURITY TRANSMISSION]**

**[TO: FLEET ADMIRAL STANTON, J.]**

**[FROM: VICE ADMIRAL LOCKWOOD, K.]**

**[SUBJECT: LOSS OF CONTACT]**

[Jackie, as you well know, we sent the USM _Orpheus_ to investigate Kreemar after both the _Bellerophon_ and the _Jerusalem_ dropped out of contact. Both disappearances involved unknown forces attacking their vessels. We had hoped that the _Orpheus_ would not suffer the same fate, but we were wrong. She never reported in once dropping out of shock space. I will update you and the Security Council with more news once I get it.]

* * *

USM _Jerusalem_

In orbit of Kreemar

"Sir, I'm detecting movement from the _Bellerophon_'s secondary array." White glanced over. One of his junior officers was waving him over.

"What is it, Lieutenant?"

"There's faint movement over by the secondary array. I'll try to bring up a sensor image." After a few seconds, an image popped up over the main viewer. It was blurry and low-quality, but definitely of a few dozen human-shaped beings.

"Can we enhance this image?" Benson asked. Weiss shook his head.

"Negative. The high metal content of the asteroids is wreaking havoc with our scanning systems. This is the best my people can do for the moment."

"Could be survivors. They could be trying to use the comm array to hail us." Hernandez suggested. White nodded.

"Ensign Straw, bring us in for a pickup. Have Squads 1-5 ready at the airlocks. If they're hostiles, we shouldn't have any trouble eliminating them."

"Aye sir." The _Jerusalem_ fired up its engines and moved closer to the stricken vessel.

"Approaching the secondary array…" The _Jerusalem_ hovered over the larger vessel's secondary comm array. The array was a series of antennas and dishes in the center of a deep bowl-like structure, with a wide brim. As the ship's shadow covered the dish, none noticed the surface of the array crack open and move.

"Open Bay 1 doors." White ordered "Set us down, Ensign." There was the whine of hydraulics as the _Jerusalem_'s landing struts extended and the ship used its docking tethers to attach to the hull.

"Alright, I want Decon units at-…" The ship shook violently and White was thrown off his feet. He flew over the railing from the officer's platform and landed next to Chief Weiss.

"Sir, are you…" The ship shook again, and those who hadn't had the sense to strap themselves into their seats were thrown around the deck. White managed to grab onto a holo-display. Hernandez hit the floor beside him. His neck was at an awkward angle.

"Commander! Are you alright?" White leaned down and felt Hernandez's pulse. Nothing. Somberly, he closed the man's eyes "Rest in peace, Raphael."

"Status report!" Benson roared. Her forehead had a nasty cut from her impact with a bulkhead, and her uniform was covered with blood, though it was unclear if it was hers or not.

"I don't know sir, there's…" Straw's voice trailed off as the bridge darkened. A large tentacle, the size of a sequoia tree, was blocking the light from the sun as it slithered across the bridge viewport.

"What the hell?"

"Lord, protect us…" White murmured, clutching the cross beneath his jacket uniform. Then the ship was flung away from the _Bellerophon_'s hull. Suddenly, its trajectory was stopped violently. There was a groaning sound and then the bridge erupted into fire. Consoles exploded, killing the crewmen occupying them. Overhead beams crashed to the floor. The emergency bulkheads began slamming down over the viewports.

"Sir, I'm reading increased pressure mid-ship!" Straw called back to White, who had taken a dead communication officer's station "It-ARGH!" Her console exploded and she dropped to the floor, her face blackened and smoking. White stared at her body grimly before bringing up the ship-wide intercom.

"This is the Captain. All hands, abandon ship! All hands, abandon ship!" White keyed up a link to Earthgov Command "Command, this is Captain Leonard White! We are under attack. Something grabbed ahold of the ship and is tearing us apart, I repeat, something-…" _**SSS-BANG!**_ A beam slammed into White's forehead and he hit the deck, knocked out cold.

The _Jerusalem_, struggling in vain in the grips of three powerful tentacles, stood no chance. After a few agonizing seconds of hull plating groaning and creaking, the tentacles that held it mid-ship squeezed tight and the vessel was torn in two. Bodies spilled out into the cold vacuum of space and the aft section was engulfed by an explosion as the reactor core detonated. The forward hull was sent adrift, spilling air, debris, and bodies as it floated beside the _Bellerophon_.

* * *

"_No_…" Owen sank to his knees. Ashley just slumped against the wall and hung her head. They were standing in one of the outer corridors, watching the _Jerusalem_'s demise through the corridor-long viewports. The lift doors had opened just as the tentacles snapped it in two. Owen numbly opened his RIG and prepared a log.

* * *

**[PERSONAL LOG]**

**[PVT HAINES, OWEN]**

**[TYPE: AUDIO]**

[Personal log, Owen Haines. April 9th, 2512. 1530 hours. The _Jerusalem_'s gone. The thing that destroyed it…I didn't even get a full glimpse of it. But it definitely has at least three giant tentacles that it used to rip the vessel in half like a piñata. First John…now this. There were over 200 good men and women aboard that vessel. Now they're all dead. Jesus, what the hell is going on? That was our ticket home. We're stuck aboard this Godforsaken hellhole.]

**[LOG ENDS]**

* * *

"Come on, we need to keep moving." The woman urged them. John turned to her and stood up.

"No. What we need are some answers." He motioned to Ashley. In a flash, the woman was on her knees and Ashley had her pistol pressed against the woman's head. "What the hell is going on here? What were those things? Were they the crew?" If the woman was afraid, she didn't show it.

"Yes, they were." She glared at Ashley "Would you put that thing away? I'm on your side!" Ashley just growled. Owen bent down and stared at the woman face to face.

"We're asking the questions here. Let's start with your name." The woman glared at him.

"Dr. Sandra Pallas. Senior Medical officer aboard the USM _Bellerophon_."

"Where's the Chief Medical officer?" Ashley asked.

"Same as half the people aboard this vessel. Killed himself. Just took his service weapon and went out muttering about 'convergence' and 'make us whole'." John motioned for Ashley to lower her weapon. Pallas stood up cautiously, eyes narrowed at John. Finally, she extended her hand. He shook it. Just like that, they were allies.

"What's the situation?" John asked. Pallas sighed. Her eyes were rimmed with fatigue and the smell coming off of her suggested two days' worth of sweat and blood.

"Where to start…we have eighteen assorted crewmen and soldiers barracked in Cargo Hold One. There was one full squad of marines left, but they were ambushed in the Mess Hall. Then there was that CEC vessel. We tried to hail them and warn them away, but that thing got onto our secondary array, so they didn't hear us. Most of their boarding party was killed before their shuttle returned to their ship. There were a few stowaways aboard their ship."

"CEC vessel? You mean the _O'Reilly_?" Ashley asked. Pallas nodded.

"Poor bastards. The ship drifted for almost a day before they started moving. We assume that they managed to kill their stowaways. Began heading for the edge of the system just as you arrived. A Uni ship shocked into system as they were attempting to leave. Blasted them to bits all over the entry area. The main hull survived. I think there could have been survivors, but that doesn't give much comfort I'm afraid." Owen glanced at Ashley in alarm. Earthgov vessels all had a designated shock area for vessels to safely shock in and out of systems. If the _O'Reilly _had been destroyed there, it would be the equivalent of blowing up an airplane on an active runway. Any further investigating ship would collide with the debris upon de-shock, receiving major damage if not getting destroyed itself. If there were survivors onboard the _O'Reilly_, then they would be killed the moment that happened.

"After the Unitologist sneak attack, we thought it was over. But then reports started circulating of the bodies around the crashed barge rising from the dead and…changing. Security teams managed to contain the situation there, or at least we thought. What we didn't know was that they were using the vents to get around. Within hours, there were reports of biological contaminations on every deck. Pretty soon, all of our countermeasures were at the point of failure. The soldiers were getting slaughtered. Most of the people affected by the blast from Perseus Station went over the edge and killed themselves. They just added to their ranks. Things went to shit once the bridge situation occurred."

"What do you mean, 'bridge incident'?" Ashley asked.

"Once the Engineering Deck was overrun, Captain Romanoff ordered the self-destruct system be activated. The senior officers were split on the decision. There was a mutiny led by Commander Wallace against this. All communications with the bridge cut off after that, but we were able to deduce that four or more bridge officers were shot, judging by the last transmission that the Security Office got from the bridge. No word on the Captain or the XO."

"We have people scattered all over the ship. Are you saying that they're in danger?" Owen asked. Pallas stared at him sadly and nodded.

"With the tram system offline and internal comms, there was no way for us to get a message to your squadmates about the Necromorphs." Pallas said "I've never seen suits like the one your friend was wearing. What were they?"

"Classified prototypes. That's all I can say for now." Owen said. Pallas scoffed.

"Really? The whole world's gone to shit, and you still care about whether something's classified or not?" Owen shrugged.

"Rules are rules." Pallas just rolled her eyes and began walking down the corridor.

"Come on. Cargo Hold One is this way."

Owen and Ashley slung their empty Pulse Rifles over their shoulders and popped their helmets back on. With Ashley holding her Divet pistol and Owen using his flamethrower, the trio made their way down the hallway. As they reached the end, where the corridor turned to the left and deeper into the ship, they heard a crashing sound from up ahead. Pallas tensed. Then the shadow of something large and lumbering appeared around the corner.

If the previous Necromorphs had been creepy, this one beat them in the terrifying aspect. Its body had a melted appearance. Its hands were reshaped into three large talons, and its face was melted, with two gaping eye sockets, and a giant hole for the mouth. The flesh beneath the chin was melted together. Both legs were fused together into one limb, and the intestines/muscles of the lower torso had been recombined into a second unwieldy limb.

"Doc, any advice on dealing with this one?" Owen asked, readying his flamethrower. Pallas had her Ripper ready to fire. It was the lighter one-handed version of the mining tool.

"Stay away from it, and avoid the…" The Necromorph reared its head back and spat a globule of bile at Ashley. Owen grabbed her and pulled her to the ground, the acidic puke barely missing them.

"…vomit." Owen stood up and growled.

"Right, these things are starting to get on my nerves." He muttered to himself. Then he addressed the Necromorph "Hey, Puke-face! Puke on this!" He let loose a burst of flames. The Necromorph recoiled, but remained upright. Gritting his teeth, Owen increased the intensity of the flames. Finally, the Puker erupted in a fountain of flesh and acid and burst apart.

"What the hell was that thing?" Ashley asked. Pallas kicked the burnt remains as if she still wasn't sure that it was dead.

"We call it a Puker. It fires a long-range adhesive vomit ball similar to a stasis burst, and a corrosive stream of vomit at short range. That, you never want to experience. If it gets the chance, it'll puke right down your throat, or rip you to pieces with those claws. I saw three doctors receive that fate." Pallas winced as a screech echoed from the opposite direction of the corridor. They wisely decided to keep moving.

The walls of the corridors were covered with the fleshy compound that the squad had encountered earlier. Owen stepped around it where he could. He swore that it was breathing. The smell coming off it didn't help much either.

"So Doc, I have to ask." Ashley piped up after an hour of silent tense walking "Why Necromorphs?"

"Chief Boland found the reference in some obscure government report on Aegis VII. Same thing happened there. Whole thing was heavily blacked-out though. We were running a decryption program on the file when they broke into the Med Bay." Pallas paused, and then turned around and fired a blade past Owen's shoulder. The Slasher that had been sneaking up behind him screamed as its arm was torn off. Owen yelped in surprise and with more reflex than intention, slammed his flamethower into the Slasher. It recoiled, and that gave Pallas enough time to sever its other arm, killing it.

"Geez…how much further?" They entered a large half-octagon large two-level room, with a balcony ringing the second floor. Five large doors were set in the middle of each wall segment. Like the elevator lobby, the floor was littered with the eviscerated bodies of dozens of E.D.F. marines and Necromorphs, though the marines far outnumbered the Necromorphs. Owen scrounged around and found a few more clips of pulse rounds. He tossed half to Ashley. Pallas continued walking.

"Just through that door." She indicated the door with the words CARGO HOLD ONE over it. "There's a short corridor and the security lobby." Suddenly, they heard banging noises coming from the second story balcony. Then the lights dimmed and orange alert beacons began flashing. A loud droning blare filled their ears.

"What the hell?" Pallas cursed. Their RIGs glowed and activated, and an image of the female soldier from before appeared in front of each of them. She was panting heavily and typing furiously into her keyboard.

"_Shit…biological contamination alarms just went off. I'm tracking movement, a lot of it, heading your way_." They heard one of the vents on the second floor break apart. A second one followed. Then another, another, and another…

"Can you shut it off?" Owen asked. He trained his rifle on the balcony, moving back and forth, trying to catch movement in the darkened room. Ashley did the same.

"_I should…damn it! Someone's overridden my authorization codes! This could take a while._" Owen saw a shadowy outline and fired. His burst briefly illuminated the balcony. Even in that small area, there were at least a score of Necromorphs. Dozens of glowing yellow eyes peered down at them from around the balcony.

"No obvious cover spots." Ashley muttered to Owen.

"Stay by the door. On the off chance she gets it open-LOOK OUT!" A Slasher leaped over the balcony and charged Ashley. A few short bursts from Owen later, the Slasher lay in three separate pieces on the ground. As if on cue, the others began pouring over the balcony by the dozens. Owen and Ashley opened fire, spraying dozens of rounds into the mass.

Pallas fired off another Ripper blade before her improvised weapon whined and powered down. Owen tossed her his Pulse Rifle and unslung his flamethrower, bathing the area in front of them in blue fire.

The Necromorphs recoiled, a few dozen of them incinerated by the powerful weapon. However, Owen's previous attempts to burn the Corruption and the fight in the elevator lobby had eaten up a good deal of the hydrazine fuel. After another burst of flames that set a Puker on fire, the flamethrower sputtered and stopped working.

"I'm out!" Owen hissed. Ashley, continuing to lay down fire, turned so that her back was facing him. Owen slung his flamethrower over his shoulder and grabbed her Divet. A few bursts from it took down another Slasher, but it too eventually ran out of ammo. In desperation, Owen fired a Stasis round at a Slasher about to leap on him, and used his combat knife to slice it apart. The knife gave him an idea.

Another Slasher ran at him. Owen used his Kinesis Module to pick up the fallen Slasher's blade and hurl it at the next Slasher. The Slasher was thrown back with such violent force that it was impaled against the wall. It struggled for a few seconds before going still.

Owen tried it again. The next Slasher didn't die right away, but the second blade that impaled it did the job. But that was still too slow. Soon, they were surrounded on all sides by the Necromorphs and pressed up against the door.

"_There, I've got it!_" The doors hissed open. Not wasting a second, they crawled under them while they were still lifting. The moment all three were through, the doors slammed shut, crushing the Slashers trying to get through.

* * *

**[PERSONAL LOG: KELLER, JACK]**

**[TYPE: AUDIO]**

**[UPDATE: NO HOPE LEFT]**

[This is Jack Keller, the last survivor of the shuttle USG _Serpentine_, out of the USG _O'Reilly_. Two of the bladed ones managed to hijack our shuttle on the way back. They caused quiet the ruckus once we got back to the _O'Reilly_. Slaughtered Sam and Charles before we cut them apart, not to mention damaging enough systems that it took us a day to make repairs. Then that Uni ship showed up. We barely managed to launch the _Serpentine_ before it turned the ship into a Swiss cheese block. I wish we could have warned the other E.D.F. vessel away. Our shuttle lost most of its systems during the escape, and our comm array was one of them.]

[…Major Lack is taking us on a course for Perseus Station. There are five us on onboard the shuttle. Lack, myself, Evelyn, Zoe, and Sergeant Quinn. We don't know if anyone else survived. The fact that the _O'Reilly_'s sprawled out right over the entry shock area doesn't give me warm feelings. I don't want to go back to Perseus. I was born there. My older siblings and my mother are…maybe were…members of the Church of Unitology there. Statistical data suggests that with the number of people there, there are bound to be secure sectors that haven't been overrun by those things. We've got cutters, Line Guns, a few Contact Beams, and two Rippers aboard the shuttle. There are a few Pulse Rifles as well, but from our last attempts at using them they waste too much ammo in trying to sever the limbs so we're not bringing them. Our goal is simple: Find a Shock-capable craft and get the hell out of here. Keller out.]

**[LOG ENDS]**

* * *

Stay turned for next chapter!


	5. Chapter 5

**Here is Chapter 5. Be warned-I may take longer breaks between chapters as I have with this one.**

* * *

**[SOS BEACON-FLASHBEAMED TO USM CLC-0012 ARMSTRONG. RELAYED TO USM DD-556 ORPHEUS]**

**[PLEASE ENTER AUTHORIZATION CODE TO VIEW MESSAGE…]**

_[CODE HAS BEEN REMOVED FROM ALL TRANSCRIPTS DUE TO POTENTIAL INTERCEPTION AND MISUSE BY THIRD PARTIES.]_

**[CODE ENTERED: WAGNER, J. (CAPT)…WELCOME CAPTAIN WAGNER. MESSAGE FOLLOWS…]**

[MAYDAY, MAYDAY, MAYDAY. THIS IS USG AR-1505 O'REILLY REQUESTING IMMEDIATE ASSISTANCE. SURVIVORS ABOARD. LIMITED OXYGEN AND FOOD STORES. SITUATION CODE DELTA NINER ONE DASH BRAVO FIVE…]

**[ACCESSING RIG LINK…RIG ID: JENNER, T. (RADM) (USM CLC-0012 ARMSTRONG)…ESTABLISHING CONNECTION…AUDIO AND VISUAL LINK INITIATING…]**

[TJ: You saw it?]

[JW: What the hell do you want me to do about it?]

[TJ: The _Jerusalem_ was sent to investigate Marker Site 1A due to concerns over the loss of communications with Task Force REDACTED DUE TO LEVEL ALPHA INFORMATION. Two days before them, _Bellerophon_ was diverted to the system, under the illusion of a routine patrol. Our operatives onboard were to collect all relevant data and initiate Base Contingency Zero. The vessel dropped out of contact a few days after arriving into the system. That's when the _Jerusalem_ was sent. They found the _Bellerophon_. There was evidence of missile fire on the primary comm array and forward batteries. It was attacked, just like Command suspected. We're assuming there was a mole onboard.]

[JW: What happened to the _Jerusalem_?]

[TJ: Contact was lost shortly after Captain White sent a message to _Marathon_ mentioning that he was bringing the _Jerusalem_ over to the _Bellerophon_ to try and rescue survivors on the secondary comm array. The last we heard from the vessel was that something had grabbed onto them.]

[JW: Wait, _something_? And it _grabbed_ them?]

[TJ: Affirmative. We're still not sure what-]

[JW: So why the hell are we investigating a Guild ship? That's the CEC's job. Let them sort it out. This takes priority.]

[TJ: The CEC ship was the first one sent to Kreemar. Its black box contents and ship's logs were flashbeamed to Copernicus Station.]

[JW: So the ship was attacked?]

[TJ: Yes, and we can assume that the REDACTED DUE TO LEVEL ALPHA ONE INFORMATION got onboard.]

[JW: Was the _O'Reilly_ attacked by the same unknowns as the _Bellerophon_?]

[TJ: Unknown. But we've traced the Mayday to these spatial coordinates. I'm sending them over now. We're assuming the unknowns were Unis though.]

[JW: Damn Marker-lovers. Alright, we're headed for the _O'Reilly_. Per your orders, I'll initiate Base Contingency Two on the _Jerusalem_ and the _Bellerophon_, if they're still in one piece. Wagner out.]

[RIG LINK CLOSED.]

* * *

**[WELCOME BACK, CAPTAIN WAGNER…]**

**[ACCESSING UNITED SPACE GUILD DATABASE…]**

[SEARCH: USG AR-1505 _O'Reilly_]

**[PROCESSING-ONE MOMENT PLEASE…SEARCHING…SEARCHING…ENTRY FOUND.]**

[SHIP ID: USG AR-1505 O'REILLY]

[CLASS: MEI MEI-CLASS ARMORED RECON VESSEL]

[CREW: 30-7 BRIDGE OFFICERS, 6 ENGINEER SPECIALISTS, 8 MERCHANT MARINES, 2 SCIENCE SPECIALISTS, 1 COMMANDING OFFICER, 2 MAINTENANCE STAFF, 4 OTHER.]

[CREW IS ALSO CROSSTRAINED TO FULFILL ALL NECESSARY ROLES.]

[COMMANDING OFFICER: CDR. CARTWRIGHT, R.

[ARMAMENT: 4 AD TURRETS, 1 LIGHT-YIELD CANNON]

[VEHICLE COMPLEMENT: 2 8-MAN SHORT-RANGE SHUTTLES, 1 12-MAN SURVEY VEHICLE WITH AUXILIARY AIRFRAME.]

[FORMERLY A SUPPORT VESSEL IN THE 12TH FLEET DURING THE RESOURCE WARS, THE O'REILLY WAS LATER REASSIGNED TO THE CEC (CONCORDANCE EXTRACTION CORPORATION) AS A SUPPORT/REPAIR VESSEL. ITS CURRENT POSTING IS COPERNICUS STATION OVER THE NOVA PRIME COLONY.]

[SEARCH: Cartwright R., commanding officer of _O'Reilly_]

**[PROCESSING-ONE MOMENT PLEASE…SEARCHING PERSONNEL DATABASE…ENTRY FOUND.]**

[NAME: ROSE ELIZABETH CARTWRIGHT]

[AGE: 37]

[RANK: COMMANDER]

[A VETERAN OF THE UNIFICATION AND RESOURCE WARS, COMMANDER CARTWRIGHT IS THE COMMANDING OFFICER ABOARD THE USG O'REILLY. TECH SPECIALIST IN OPERATION BLACKWOOD. FURTHER BIOGRAPHICAL INFORMATION IS CLASSIFED UNDER ALPHA TWO LEVEL CLEARANCE.]

[SEARCH: Operation Blackwood.]

[PROCESSING…SECURITY ALERT. ALL INFORMATION REGARDING OPERATION BLACKWOOD IS LOCKED UNDER ONYX-ONE CLEARANCE.]

* * *

"Figures…" Wagner leaned back from the monitor. Just then, a holographic screen popped up next to his head. It was his navigation officer, Lt. Lucy Hardwick.

"Sir, we've located the _O'Reilly_'s distress beacon. She's adrift approximately five thousand kilometers from Kreemar. Just beyond the gravitational pull."

"Divert our current course to intercept her. Prep the shuttles for boarding. I want a full download of her files."

"Aye, sir."

* * *

"De-shocking in three, two, one, we're in real space." Wagner watched as the space beyond the bridge slowed down and focused to become…a shipwreck.

"Hardwick!" Wagner barked. Hardwick and her co-pilot, Lt. Jason Evers, pulled the ship into a sharp upward bank. It was too late. The hulk loomed ahead of them. Proximity alarms started blaring, and emergency bulkheads slid down over the viewports.

"All hands, brace for-…" That was as far as Wagner got before the deck buckled beneath him and he was thrown off his feet. Collision alarms began flashing and screeching as consoles exploded. The lights flickered then shattered. Wagner saw a bulkhead coming towards him, or him to it, and then everything went black.

* * *

"Sir?"

_ Black…pain_

"Sir, can you hear me?"

_ Evers?_

"Evers?"

"Thank god. Sir, we have to get you on your feet."

"Ugh…what happened?"

"Minor concussion. You hit that wall pretty hard. Come on, we need to get moving."

Wagner's eyes opened. He felt the dull throbbing pain in his forehead. He reached up and felt a lump the size of an egg. Evers was leaning over him while Hardwick was checking on the comm officer, Ensign Bradley. Bradley was whimpering and cradling what appeared to be a broken arm. Still, he was better off than gunnery control officer Jess Newman. She was still at her station, her legs trapped under a fallen beam and a nasty tear in her side where she had fallen on some broken glass. Her teeth were gritted and she was doing her best not to scream out in pain.

"XO Glass, Tucker, and Murdoch are dead." Evers reported. "Commander Glass was trying to pull Murdoch from his seat when a beam skewered them both. Tucker's station blew up in his face." Evers pointed at the charred body next to Newman. Two pairs of legs were visible beneath a pile of rubble further back.

Wagner winced and stood up. He immediately fell against Evers as nausea and pain threatened to overcome him. "What happened?"

"We clipped that wreck when we de-shocked. Tore open our lower hull and destroyed the bottom three decks. Fifteen crewmen are dead, sir. Twelve more are injured, and seven are unaccounted for." Evers reported.

"Then we better…" Wagner stopped as the deck shook. Spark erupted from a few destroyed consoles and the remaining emergency lights flickered "What the hell?"

"The primary coolant tank was ruptured during the crash. We tried shutting down the engines, but systems all over the ship are starting to overload." To prove his point, several overhead beams crashed to the deck.

"This place isn't safe." Wagner grunted "Evacuate the bridge."

"Yes sir."

Wagner limped through the emergency bulkhead separating the bridge from the main corridor, followed by Bradley. Evers and Hardwick lifted the beam off of Newman, but when she tried to stand up, her legs gave out and she shrieked in pain. They had each grab an arm and drag her off the bridge. They were just in time too. There was another rumble, and the ship rocked violently. More consoles blew up and wiring and panels fell to the floor. As the doors closed, they heard the hull breach alarm sounding, and realized that the bridge had decompressed.

"What the hell was that?" Wagner grunted. Evers opened a RIG link.

"Engineering, this is Evers. Chief Ramirez, report."

"This is Ramirez…there was a gas leak that we didn't know about. Basil went in with a suit on to try and seal up some of the breaches. The moment he turned his torch on, it ignited the gas. Incinerated him and pretty much everyone else within the compartment. The explosion spread through most of the ship before we could shut down the gas…we've lost the engines, sir. The reactor's too badly damaged for me to repair with the spare parts we have."

"Get your men out of there, Chief. I want everyone in the Bunker for a situation briefing."

* * *

The Bunker, as the auxiliary command center was called, was a large sealed-off area in the center of the _Orpheus_. With enough supplies to last two weeks, and a second bridge, it was meant to serve in case of an attack where either the bridge was crippled or survival conditions were at their worst. That said, it wasn't comfortable, with hard mattresses crammed into shallow alcoves, and the 'food' was dehydrated rations.

Wagner was hunched over the main console, staring at the pitiful remains of his crew. Out of 89 good men and women, there were now 22, including him.

Weapons were down. There were gaping holes in the hull. The long-range comm and sensor arrays had been destroyed, preventing them from informing Earthgov of their situation or locating any nearby vessels to call for assistance. The reactor itself was largely intact, but most of the spare parts had been either destroyed or set adrift during the collision. Its casing was cracked in too many places to patch up with the remaining parts, leaking the toxic radiation from the fusion core. The entire compartment was flooded with radiation. The main problem was concerning the engines. The Shockpoint Drive was destroyed, and the entire aft of the vessel was a fractured wreck. With no spare nacelles, the ship was limited to the two secondary engines and maneuvering thrusters, neither of which would get them very far.

"We can still survive this." Wagner told the remaining 21 crewmembers who were gathered around the console or lounging in their bunks. "We're near Kreemar. That place is a gold mine for salvaging parts."

"Sir, these vessels haven't seen use for decades, and most of them are just bits and pieces now." Ramirez pointed out.

"True, but don't forget that Perseus Station also had hundreds of vessels coming in and out of the system. Our remaining scanners have detected a good number of them, floating without power and only with minor damage."

"There has to be an intact Shockpoint Drive somewhere out there." Hardwick said. The others nodded and muttered their agreements.

"Repairs to the hull shouldn't take long. All I need is a few dozen plates and some volunteers." Ramirez agreed. There were more agreements and raised hands to show their willingness.

"Weapons will have to be out of the equation, I'm afraid. We can't waste the time and manpower, and frankly, if we do find ourselves in a situation where we'll need the turrets, the ship won't survive regardless." Wagner said "If we do this right, we should have enough power for a shock to Copernicus, or at least within communications range. If we can't locate a Shockpoint drive…then we go to Plan B." There was a general murmur about how they would rather not do Plan B.

"Sir, do we know which vessel we hit?" Evers asked. Wagner shook his head.

"I don't know. Chief, you have men EVA doing repair work, correct?"

"Aye. I get the Lieutenant's point. We went dead right after hitting that wreck. It's about a hundred meters off our starboard bow. I reviewed the bow camera footage. It looked mostly intact. Looks recent. There's almost definitely a Shockpoint Drive onboard. Whether it's intact or not is the main question. The ship's certainly closer to us than any of the other wrecks, and we wouldn't have to waste shuttle fuel shuttling back and forth between the debris field and us. I'd like to take a team aboard and scavenge it, with your permission."

"Permission granted. Go ahead and pick your team once this meeting is done. Manning, how are we on supplies?"  
"We have the Bunker's ration supplies. They were meant for the full crew, so that's four and a half weeks worth of food right there. The cisterns survived the explosion, but purifiers 1 through 5 are down. We should have enough water for rehydrating those ration packs and drinking. Showers are absolutely out of the question, and the same goes for any caffeinated drinks or anything that requires water that isn't what's on the list I'm sending to your RIG." There was a collective groan as the Quartermaster spoke that last line.

"Continue, Quartermaster Manning."

"I took a team to the Armory to see what weapons we have left. Most were either sucked out of the ship or destroyed, bur we have eight working Pulse Rifles, with full clips each, two shotguns, one Seeker Rifle, and three PF-100 Hydrazine Flamethrowers. There's about a hundred or so assorted rounds. Oxygen levels within the ship are stable, but I wouldn't recommend staying here any longer than we have to. Air's going to get pretty rank after a few days of no showers."

Manning sighed and ran his fingers through his long hair. Half his face had been heavily burned while rescuing Chief Ramirez from a fire that had broken out on Deck 4, the Munitions Depot. He was limping and was basically running on adrenaline and painkiller as of the moment. Although he didn't say anything, the way he gripped the projector and the sheen of sweat on his forehead told Wagner that Manning was in incredible agony.

"Right. Doctor Silverstein, please tend to Quartermaster Manning." Doctor Alice Silverstein, a pretty 32-year-old with dirty blond hair, nodded and led Manning over to a bed where she injected him with a sedative and he slipped into merciful sleep.

"Doctor, how's our medical situation?" Silverstein motioned for her assistant, Ensign Jenny Fleck, to answer the captain's question.

"Right Doctor…um…well the Med Bay's pretty much intact. The ER staff is working on the survivors of that explosion. We have our full supply of medpacks and bandages, so we're good on that front."

"Excellent. Alright, Chief Ramirez: Pick your team and then head out to that vessel."

"Aye, Captain. Brown, Rowan, Lee, you're with me." Ramirez and his team disappeared through the door.

"I want teams working double-time on hull repairs with what we already have. However, we came here for a mission, and since repairs will take more than a few days, I intend to finish the mission. I'm taking a small team aboard the shuttle and going to try and find the _Jerusalem_. Troy, Riley, Hardwick, and Harris; you're with me. Get Soldier RIGs and Pulse Rifles."

* * *

The _Orpheus_ carried one heavy-duty assault shuttle, meant to act as a scouting/recon craft in combat situations. The long hours required in such operations meant that the vessel had enough fuel for a week's mission, and its own crew quarters.

"Sir, I'm picking up an automated RIG beacon." Harris, a grizzled soldier nearing his retirement years, said. For the last two hours, they had been scanning the asteroid belt around Kreemar for signs of the _Jerusalem_ and the _Bellerophon_. The news from the ship was mixed. Repairs were coming along just fine, and the fire damage to the engine room had been repaired, mostly. The radiation leaks had been sealed, and once the necessary parts had been acquired, the atmosphere would be cycled in that compartment and the emergency showers activated to cleanse any remaining radiation. However, Ramirez and his team had identified the wreck that had caused the Orpheus's problems in the first place. It was the _O'Reilly_. From the looks of it, someone had blasted it the moment it reached the shock entry area. On a brighter note, they had found the ground vehicle and one of the two onboard shuttles inside the remnants of the forward hangar. Miraculously, the shuttle had survived the destruction of its ship with only minor hull scratches, and Ramirez was planning to use it to extend the salvage radius. Five full containers of fuel had also been located, enough to last a few dozen trips. The discovery of the shuttle had prompted Ramirez to organize a search for survivors; if the shuttle managed to survive, then there was a good chance that the crew might have as well.

"Where?"

"Two klicks at grid point A9-9. Just off our port bow." Wagner glanced up through the cockpit viewport. Nothing. Only shipwrecks and asteroids.

"Give me the floodlights. Begin an active scan of the area." The massive floodlights fixed on the bow of the ship lit up, illuminating the area in front of them. Wagner peered into the gloom, and quickly became alert as he noticed puffs of gas coming from one of the supposed shipwrecks.

The moment that Harris activated the sensor sweep, three sets of lights lit up in the distant darkness. "What's that?" Hardwick asked.

"Trouble." Wagner said, already extending the engine pods on their struts, providing extra maneuverability for the shuttle. "Everyone, Battle stations! Troy, Riley; man the turrets!" Harris immediately fired up the engines and opened up the heat vents. The shuttle executed a sharp 180-degree turn, as the lights in the distance quickly became three fast-attack gunships. Another three gunships appeared from behind an asteroid and began heading for the shuttle. Harris jumped out of his seat and began running to the aft of the ship to man the rear turret pod.

Wagner began thinking. The assault shuttle, twice the size of a _Wai Lao_-class shuttle, was outfitted with two forward facing dual cannon banks on either side of the forward hull, one missile launcher on the belly of the ship, three missile fans packed to the brim with mini-rockets, and one aft turret. They also had a rack of survey charges, but the gunships, a mixture of modified civilian and stolen military models, were armed with four missile launchers and a belly chaingun. The shuttle was more maneuverable than the gunships but slower. If they tried to make a break for it, then either the chainguns would cut them to pieces or the missiles would blast them to atoms.

"Hardwick, bring us deeper into the asteroid field." Wagner ordered, taking control of the missile launcher. A wing of ten starfighters came out of their hiding spots and streaked towards the shuttle from the front. Wagner ordered Hardwick to continue forward.

"Shouldn't we be going away from the scary fighters?" Hardwick asked, gritting her teeth as she swung the shuttle into a tight corkscrew to avoid the missile one of the fighters sent at them.

"Out in the open, we don't stand a chance. In here, we have maneuverability, and that's what counts." Wagner proved his point as Hardwick turned the shuttle on its side to slide between two asteroids on a collision course. They made it through, but one of the gunships hit one of the asteroids and bounced between them before exploding.

The other gunships began to spread out, trying to get multiple angles on the nimble shuttle. The space around the shuttle erupted in fire as bullets ricocheted off the asteroids around them. Harris fired a burst from the aft turret, taking out one fighter and clipping the wing of a second, causing it to crash into the remains of an old engine nacelle.

Wagner looked ahead of them. They were approaching the wreck of an old cargo vessel, a _Fortress_-class carrier. If Wagner remembered correctly, vessels of that class were built with large interior corridors big enough for the supply shuttles and escort fighters that it carried to move between the different cargo hangars.

"Hardwick, take us through the portal at grid G4-6." Wagner ordered. Hardwick gripped the control stick tighter and maneuvered the shuttle through one of the entrance portals, an incredible feat at high speeds. The attacking vessels followed.

The shuttle shot through the tunnel. Harris began a nonstop spray of bullets at their pursuers, taking out three fighters as they entered the portal. One gunship collided with the wall as it swerved to avoid the stream of bullets.

Five fighters and four gunships left. They passed a collection of fuel silos. Wagner swiveled the shuttle's missile launcher and fired a rocket at the silos as the shuttle sped by. An explosion burst forth from the silos, engulfing two gunships.

"Captain, we're approaching a large area ahead. Probably one of the cargo hangars." Hardwick said. Wagner nodded.

"Once we enter, wait five seconds and then turn us about face." Hardwick's face lit up in a grin as she realizes what her captain was suggesting.

"Aye, sir."

With a roar, they rocketed into the hangar. Hardwick jerked her control rod to the left. The shuttle did a 180 turn until it was facing the tunnel entrance.

"Troy, Riley, light 'em up." Wagner ordered. The two gun operators chuckled and then began spraying the entrance with bullets. When the explosions finally stopped, only two fighters remained, and they shot through the entrance before going out through a hole in the roof of the hangar.

"They're running!" Troy cheered. Wagner wasn't so sure. A few moments later, he was proven right as the shuttle was rocked by an explosion.

"Close-range detonation of a missile." Hardwick reported. A medium-sized carrier was hovering above the hole in the roof, its missile launcher trained on the shuttle. Another missile was fired, and narrowly missed the cockpit.

"Get us out of here." Wagner ordered. The shuttle ascended through the hole before entering evasive maneuvers to avoid the missiles coming towards it. Wagner began thinking. The carrier was larger than them, outgunned them three to one, and was too well armored for them to punch through the two-foot metal plating with their bullets, but it was slower. Any missiles fired at it would be shredded by its defense cannons. Any missiles that were fired…unless…an idea dawned on him.

"Lieutenant Hardwick, prep one of the heavy warheads. Set it to cold fire with a remote-activated charge. Fire on my command." Hardwick frowned, but carried out his orders. Cold fire was usually used if a missile's launch sequence malfunctioned. Cold firing it meant ejecting the capsule from the launch tube, basically throwing it away. They had no thrust, no inertia; there was nothing to propel them into a target.

"Sergeant Harris, when I give the signal 'Evergreen', I want you to launch all three missile fans. Ensign Troy, you are to launch one survey charge when I give the signal 'Blinder.' Hardwick, give me control of the helm." Hardwick relinquished control of the helm Wagner, who sat down in the seat. "Hardwick, when I say go, you eject that warhead."

A few dozen more fighters came shooting out from behind the carrier and dived towards the shuttle. Wagner ignored them and continued his trajectory. "Sir…course correction?" Hardwick asked nervously. They were on a direct course straight for the carrier, which had turned and was thundering towards them. If they didn't change course, they would be smashed against its bow.

"Wait for it…" Wagner increased the shuttle speed "Riley, do some damage." The shuttle's cannons began firing as Riley targeted the bridge of the carrier. Immediately, the bow doors opened up and cannon fire from the hangar batteries began to explode around the shuttle. More fighters began streaming out.

"Troy, now! _Blinder, blinder, blinder_!" There was a flash as the survey charge was launched and detonated, temporarily blinding all ships in the area as its powerful EM pulse spread over a five-hundred meter radius. The fighters scattered, trying to clear the static from their systems.

"Sensors are offline. Same with targeting computers!" Hardwick reported.

"Good. Now we're all blind. Hardwick, eject that warhead on course 015 by 203."

"Sir…that ejects the missile behind us."

"I understand that. Launch it!" Hardwick depressed the launch button. The inactive warhead was dumped from a portal on the bottom of the missile launcher. Wagner brought the shuttle up in a steep incline. The carrier thundered by underneath them, its tech operators trying to restore its systems. They narrowly missed colliding with the carrier, their bottom hull scraping against an antenna.

"Sir, there are thirty-seven fighters on our tail. Two of them have a lock on us." Harris reported "Shall I resume my position in the rear turret?"

"Negative. Troy, your job is done. Man that turret." Troy threw a salute and then raced through the corridor to the aft turret pod.

Two fighters launched a missile apiece at the shuttle. Wagner sent it into a tight corkscrew aimed at the carrier before jerking to the side. The shuttle scraped against the hull of the carrier and just made it out, but the missiles impacted on the carrier and tore a hole through its hull. Atmosphere and bodies began to spill out. The fighters, which had spread out to corner the shuttle, flocked back to their mothership to protect it. "Harris, _Evergreen, evergreen, evergreen_! Blow those bastards to hell!" Roaring with laughter, Harris launched the missile fans. Larger warheads with four sets of circular modules on its tip, each with 40 mini-rockets, the missile fans launched all 160 once at an appropriate distance. The missiles would seek out the nearest vessels that had been designated an enemy by its IFF within a certain radius.

The fighters stood no chance. They were ripped apart by the sudden cloud of exploding shrapnel that erupted in space around the carrier. The carrier pilot turned this way and that, struggling to think of a next course of action. Soon enough though, the carnage would cease, and they could take out the shuttle. But they forgot about the warhead.

After launching the warhead, Wagner had made sure that it would be swallowed up by the carrier. With their sensors blinded, the crew wouldn't be able to detect that its core had been primed. Now, it lay within one of the largest areas and most volatile, the hangar, with fuel silos and munitions lying around. To the crew of the carrier, the warhead was just a cold fire castoff from the shuttle, nothing to be worried about. Then Wagner activated the remote-control detonator.

Plumes of fire erupted all over the bow of the carrier. More explosions followed, as the flames consumed the volatile materials onboard. Soon, the carrier was nothing more than a smoking wreck. Wagner did a quick scan. The aft section, almost certainly where the reactor was, was mostly intact. There were no radiation leaks. He turned to Hardwick.

"Contact Chief Ramirez." Wagner ordered, "Tell him we got him his reactor core."

* * *

**[PERSONAL LOG]**

**[KELLER, JACK]**

**[TYPE: AUDIO]**

**[DISTRESS SIGNAL]**

[There are times that I love my family. I mean, I hate them all the time (Except for you Dad, love you always. May you rest in peace), but the fact that Mom gave all our money to the Church and forced Dad and I to move to Copernicus is the reason why I met Evelyn. Captain Cartwright just called the entire crew back. Said that the higher up corporate folks ordered us to investigate a distress signal received by Copernicus's long range transceiver a few hours ago. Evelyn's not happy. We were enjoying a nice…um…stress-relieving activity when Cartwright called. Anyhow, I've got to set these pressure valves by the time Major Lack gets aboard. Keller out.]

**[LOG ENDS]**

* * *

"Sir, I'm picking up a EDF signal on our scanners…wait…there's a message attached to it." Wagner walked over to Troy, who was trying to triangulate the signal.

"Can you pinpoint the location?" Wagner asked. Benjamin Troy was an ensign who had been recommended by Wagner's ex-wife as a suitable engineer, having spent three years as a Class 3 Engineer in the CEC.

"Negative. Signal's pretty degraded."

"What about that message?"

"Either their comm array is damaged or the high metal content in these asteroids is distorting the audio. It's just static. I'll try to clear it up."

[Mayday…-day…-salem…this is Commander Erika Benson…anyone…this, please respond…Mayday…] The rest of the message was just static, and the only distinguishable words were 'limited air' and 'survivors aboard'.

"Erika Benson?" Wagner glanced at his RIG database "She's the commanding officer of _Jerusalem_'s special operations unit. Troy, I want that signal origin located and a response sent. Response follows: This is Captain Jared Wagner of the USM _Orpheus_. We have received your distress signal and are prepared to offer assistance."

"Aye, aye sir." While Troy began searching for the signal with his partner, Jenna Riley, Wagner went to the crew lounge. In it, Harris and Lieutenant Serena Hardwick were playing cards.

"Captain," Harris nodded. Hardwick threw a salute.

"So what are we playing?" Wagner asked. Hardwick chuckled.

"Five Card Stud." She said "You in?"

"No thanks." Wagner chuckled "I remember what happened the last time we played." Hardwick put on a pouting face. It had been strip poker and the game had turned pretty raunchy before Wagner had left.

"But Captain, Tucker's abs were so awesome, I couldn't help…" She trailed off and became quiet somber. Harris gave her a reassuring pat on the back. Wagner shivered, remembering Tucker's body being brought into the makeshift morgue they had set up in one of the cargo holds.

"It's alright, kid. We'll get through this." Harris told her. Hardwick gave him a faint smile and hugged the grizzled old man. He blushed.

"Hey, don't go all granddaughter on me. I already got five of them, and five's enough. Do you know how terrible it is buying presents for five over-excited seven-year-olds?" That made Hardwick and Wagner laugh. Then Troy ran in.

"Captain, I've located the signal. You're not going to like it though, sir."

* * *

**[SHIP'S LOG]**

**[BENSON, E. (ACTING CAPT)]**

**[TYPE: AUDIO]**

**[FINALLY SOME GOOD NEWS]**

[Item: Commander Raphael Hernandez was declared dead officially at 2300 Hours two days ago, after an impact with the bridge deck resulted in the snapping of several vertebrae in his neck. Item: Lieutenant Sydney Lehman declared at 1400 Hours after surgery failed to remove the shrapnel fragments embedded in her stomach. Item: This brings our total number of known surviving crew, including myself and the captain, down to 6. Item: Captain Leonard White is still unconscious following the collapse of an overhead support beam that struck him on the head. Item: I, Commander Erika Sonya Benson, am now Acting Captain per EarthGov Naval Code Article 34, Subsection 2. End Item list.]

[We finally managed to send out a distress signal. Unfortunately, the chances of a rescue out here are dismal, to say the least. We-hang on. What is it? What?! You're sure? Well, strap a banana between my legs and call it a dick. Someone's responding to the distress beacon. This is Benson, signing off.]

* * *

**[PERSONAL LOG: KELLER, JACK]**

**[TYPE: VIDEO]**

**[WE'VE ARRIVED]**

[_Camera activates to show the burning wreckage of several vessels inside a large hangar. The floor is covered with debris and blood, but conspicuously, no bodies. A sign on the main entrance to the hangar reads TRANSPORT TUBE SYSTEM 30 METERS. A young man's face moves into view. He has short brown hair and is wearing a Class 1 Engineer's RIG, and has a Contact Beam strapped over his back as well as a Plasma Saw in his belt_.]

[KELLER: We've arrived. No one to greet us. Suspected as much after what happened on the _Bellerophon_. Whatever was on there originated from here. Someone hacked the station's automated security protocols to fire on any vessel that registers a USG or USM IFF signature. The _Serpentine_ barely made it into the hangar. If I still had the three million credits Mom stole from my college fund, I'd bet it was her lovely Church that did it.]

[_Evelyn Marcus, a pretty nineteen-year-old blonde wearing an EVA RIG Suit and wielding a Plasma Cutter, walks into view_.]

[MARCUS: Jack, we've got to get moving.]

[LACK (in distance): Would you two lovebirds get going already? I don't like remaining in one place for too long.]

[KELLER: Coming! Anyway, we saw the ship…I think its name was Jericho? Jerrome? Jerusalem? Yeah, that was it. The USM _Jerusalem_. Anyhow, we saw the _Jerusalem_ get torn apart by one of those alien tentacle things. I think-]

[_Sound of smashing metal. Keller grabs his Contact Beam and glances off to his left. Sound of Plasma Cutter discharging offscreen. Keller fires off a blast from his Contact Beam. A bit of blood and gore hits the ground next to him.]_

[LACK: Okay, everybody move it! On the double!]

[KELLER: Shit, I'm going to have to do this on the run.]

[_Keller stands up and the RIG image follows him. View of him running down the corridor. Sergeant Christopher Quinn is briefly visible, wearing an armored Triage Security Suit and holding a Line Gun. The right side of his face is bloody, due to getting caught in an explosion during the evacuation of the _O'Reilly.]

[KELLER: I'm now addressing the surviving EDF personnel. Sooner or later, you're going to realize that your only hope of getting off this planet is to travel to Perseus Station. If you haven't figured it out by now, go for the limbs. It's the only way to kill them. You can use kinesis to pull blades off of the dead ones and skewer the live ones. Conserve your ammo and be on your guard wherever you go; they travel through the vents. Two of them managed to put our ship out of commission for a day. I'm going to leave copies of these RIG logs at certain intervals along our way. With luck, we'll find a transport hangar. Then you can follow our trail and take a shuttle yourself. Good luck. Keller out.]

**[LOG ENDS]**

* * *

Owen peered through the darkness that was the security lobby. Cautiously, he took a step through the doorway. Immediately, the lights went on and the security doors opened. Six soldiers in Elite Soldier Suits ran out, wielding Pulse Rifles and Seeker Rifles. The moment they saw the trio, the soldiers began ordering Owen and Ashley to put down their weapons or they would open fire.

"Hold your fire!" Another soldier, wearing an Elite Advanced Suit with Staff Sergeant chevrons ran through the doors. Owen recognized the voice of the mysterious female soldier from earlier "They're friendlies!"

She walked up to Owen "Staff Sergeant Vera Dawes, commanding officer of 23rd Infantry Platoon. Well, former commanding officer, anyway."

"Private Owen Haines. That's Corporal Ashley Chen. We're from the USM _Jerusalem_."

"We know." Dawes beckoned for them to follow her "You hungry? We got some grub."

"Thanks, but I need to contact my commanding officer." Owen said. Dawes turned around, her eyes wide and attentive.

"You have more marines aboard?" She turned to stare at Pallas, who hung her head in guilt.

"We…didn't want to get your hopes up, Vera. There was no way for us to reach them, and any rescue attempt would have resulted in more deaths." Pallas admitted. Dawes just sighed and walked through the doors into the hold. They followed.

"It doesn't really matter. With your ship gone, there's no way off this hellhole. Whoever overrode my command codes back there inadvertently restored power to parts of the ship. That quarantine shouldn't have happened-it was one of the few systems we disabled when we realized what was happening. There's someone else alive onboard this vessel, and they're not friendly. If you want to contact your squadmates, I suggest you do so now, before our mysterious hacker tries to kill them too."

Owen nodded and activated his RIG. "Sergeant Acker, you copy?" Her image popped up on the screen, but the connection was so bad that Owen had to modulate the frequency for a few minutes until he could hear her.

"_Barely_…" Her voice was filled with static "_What's going on, Private? We lost contact with everyone a few minutes ago. Then we were attacked by…something_."

"It's bad, Sarge. The LCPL's dead. _Jerusalem_'s been destroyed. And we're not alone on this ship."

"…"

"Sarge?"

"_What is your current position?_"  
"We're in Cargo Hold One, along with eighteen survivors. Ten of them are marines. I'm patching in their commanding officer." He imput a few commands, and Acker's face popped up in front of Dawes.

"This is Staff Sergeant Vera Dawes."

"_Staff Sergeant Beverly Acker. I got to say, Dawes. You really need to keep your house in order_." Behind Acker, Owen saw Lindsey and Roland dragging Lena across the deck. One of her arms was badly mangled, but she was still conscious.

"Tell me about it. How much do you know?" Dawes asked.

"_Aside from the reanimated bodies attacking us? We lost contact with Squads One and Two shortly after losing contact with _Jerusalem_. Then we ran into…something else. Corporal Amirsaleh got chewed up pretty bad before we managed to kill it_."

"Acker, I'm sending you a RIG map of the tram network. Trams are out, but you can use the tunnels to get here. I highly recommend you use any weapons you have with slicing abilities against the Necromorphs…the ones you encountered. Mind telling me what this 'something else' was?"

"_Big. 'bout the size of a small truck. Mottled skin. Large claws. Glowing areas. Hurled some sort of bomb-like organisms at us once we hurt it enough_."

"Haven't encountered one of those yet."

"_Bullets didn't do much against the bladed ones_."

"Same. Nurse Brant discovered that slicing them apart seems to be more efficient. The more pieces, the better."

"_Dismemberment? Huh. We have hydraulic blade attachments. I'll have my squad use them. Listen, I'd like to keep moving. I don't like staying in one place for too long. Have Chen and Haines rendezvous with us at…let's see…the Armory Tram Station_."

"I can do that. Oye, Miller, Glenn! Get your asses over here! Accompany Private Haines and Corporal Chen to the Armory Tram Station." The two marines, a short blonde muscular woman and a large bald Hispanic man, saluted and began gathering ammunition and supplies. Dawes refilled Owen's backpack with Pulse Rounds and handed both him and Chen a M-34 Plasma Rifle, the militarized version of the Plasma Cutter. "We used a few spare Power Nodes to upgrade their ammo capacity and damage output." Dawes explained "But don't go blasting away like some cowboy on his first rodeo. Conserve your ammo. Go for the limbs. Follow that strategy, you should stay alive."

* * *

The look on Commander Benson's face was pure relief as she collapsed into Wagner's arms. Troy and Hardwick carried the comatose Captain White on a stretcher between them while Harris escorted the four bridge crew through the docking umbilical and into the aft cargo hold of the shuttle.

They had found the remains of the _Jerusalem_ drifting a short distance away from the _Bellerophon_. All that was left of the once mighty vessel was the forward half of the ship, peeled open like a candy wrapper. Every single deck had been exposed to vacuum except the upper two decks, the bridge and the command salon. Nineteen people had survived the initial attack, but most had suffered severe injuries and died within hours. Two of the survivors they had taken aboard died shortly after they detached from the _Jerusalem_.

"Acting Captain Benson, I want a report." Wagner ordered. Benson sat in the crew mess, nursing her mug of coffee. She looked up at him with haunted eyes.

"All hands reported either KIA or MIA. We had three squads aboard the USM _Bellerophon_. They possibly survived."

"Unlikely." Wagner muttered to himself. When Benson looked at him in puzzlement, he asked her to continue.

"Captain White was injured during the attack…sir, I wish to ask…do you know what his condition is?"

"White has regained consciousness, and is being debriefed by Sergeant Harris. Continue, Benson."

"Sir…what the hell happened? We were sent to investigate a distress signal. I…" Her eyes rolled up in their sockets and she slumped over onto the table. Hardwick glanced at Wagner, who just nodded and pulled out the syringe she had jabbed into Hardwick's neck. Wagner walked away from her and towards a dark corner of the room where a man with his head wrapped in bandages sat. The two other survivors lay next to him, unmoving, their mugs rolling around on the floor.

"Captain White." White glanced up at Wagner. White shook the captain's hand gratefully. "Sergeant, leave us." Harris nodded and left the cargo hold, shutting the door behind him. Hardwick took the hint and left as well. Wagner kneeled down until he was facing White. "Alpha Nine-Delta-Three-Three-Victor-Zero-Charlie-Two." White nodded gravely.

"I assume you were briefed on the situation?" White asked. Wagner nodded his head. "I sincerely hope you didn't kill my surviving crew."

"No, thank god for that." Wagner assured him "Just drugged them so we could talk privately. My crew is fully aware of our situation. Unfortunately, our weapons systems were destroyed during a collision with the wreck of the _O'Reilly_. Our payload was damaged beyond repair. There's no way to make a field repair."

"My ship had Havoc nukes onboard."

"I'm afraid that the launch bays on your ship were part of the three-quarters that were destroyed." White turned pale and hung his head.

"We know what EarthGov will do if we don't succeed in our mission."

"I have my crew to worry about."

"So do I." Both captains stared at each other. They knew what the other was thinking. And it was a thought that bordered treason on just the thinnest of technicalities.

"So…agreed?"

"Agreed."

* * *

**[PERSONAL LOG]**

**[KELLER, J.]**

**[TYPE: AUDIO]**

**[RUNNING THE GAUNTLET]**

[KELLER: _Fall back! Fall back! No, don't help them! Keep running!_ This is Keller again. It's utter chaos. We reached the concourse. There are thousands of civilians trying to flee the creatures. It's a slaughterhouse. _No…I told you, cut off their limbs! Major, we need to get out of here! _Anyway, someone just activated the automatic quarantine. All the main gates are shutting down…_no, get back Evelyn! It's too late for him_. Civilians are panicking. We have to get out of here. What? Lack says that we're going to have to go through the Concourse. Oh shit…here they come…]

**[LOG ENDS]**

* * *

PLEASE Read & Review!

BELOW IS A PREVIEW OF CHAPTER 6:

"Accessing system…" Owen reported. Data began scrolling across the upper screen while video footage appeared on the four smaller screens. "Looks like our dead friend here was trying to activate the security lockdown before he died. Managed to shut out some key systems. It's going to take a while to completely connect to this terminal, so take a look around. See if you can find any supplies." They searched storage lockers and broke open containers. There wasn't much left, but they still found a few clips of Seeker Shells, Hydrazine fuel, Pulse Rounds, Plasma Energy, and a couple high-value credit chits.

Miller walked up to Owen, who was tapping his fingers against the terminal, watching the upload percentage increase slowly. "So…_Jerusalem_. Nice ship. Heard you guys were field-testing Project AEGIS?"

"Classified special ops." Owen replied "That's our job. Anything the horn-rims up top feel could blow up or malfunction, just call the good ol' crew of the USM _Jerusalem_! We'll happily put on the possibly radioactive two-ton tank suits! Aaannnndd…95% sync. Almost there." Miller chuckled. Ashley grinned and continued raiding the lockers. Corporal Glenn moved over to the large pile of corpses.

"Why were they piling the bodies in the center like this?" Glenn asked. He poked the pile with his rifle "It's almost as if…EAARRGHHH!" A Slasher leaped out of the pile and jumped on top of him, knocking his rifle aside. It began ripping at his armor as he struggled to break free from its grasp.

"Glenn!" Miller raised her rifle, only to shoulder it in frustration as the pair writhed around on the floor. She ran to help him, drawing her combat knife. Ashley was one step ahead of her, bashing the Slasher with her rifle butt. The Necromorph stumbled back, enough time for Ashley to aim her rifle and blast off its left arm. Miller came in and sliced through its right shoulder with her knife. The Slasher hit the floor, dead.

"What the hell?" Glenn coughed. He took out a small medpac and applied it to the laceration on his shoulder.

"Come on, we better-…" Ashley's voice trailed off as a long deep growl echoed through the common area.

"What was that?" Owen asked. He eyed the display. 98.7% sync. Ashley turned this way and that, her rifle casting eerie shadows on the terrace above.

"I don't know…it sounded close though." Another deep growl reached their ears. Then there was the sound of tearing metal and something heavy and metallic hitting the floor.

"It came from upstairs!" Miller warned just before an ear-splitting roar caused them all to wince. A trio of flashlights illuminated the terrace. A large Necromorph, resembling a gorilla and covered with large greyish armor-like plates was clutching the edge of the terrace. It had massive forearms with spiked 'gauntlet' plates. Its mouth was a maw full of long thin fangs and two large prongs. Behind the main arms, two smaller unarmored arms with double hooked talons at the end clutched the railing.

The behemoth glared at the marines through tiny beady eyes. For a few tense seconds, nothing happened. Then the display chimed _**BING**_ as it reached 100%. Just like that, the creature's eyes became alert and it crouched. Then it roared and bashed its fists against its chest before leaping down, creating a miniature crater on the floor below...

STAY TUNED FOR MORE INFORMATION!


End file.
